


Babies Come From Samsung Smart Refrigerators… Obviously

by khaoticwoes



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood, Brotherly Bonding, Crack Treated Seriously, Dadza Minecraft, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Festivals, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Light Angst, Momza, Phil is a good but tired dad, Samsung Smart Refrigerator - Freeform, kristin - Freeform, magic fridge, philza - Freeform, the fridge is cursed in more ways than one, twins au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27886072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khaoticwoes/pseuds/khaoticwoes
Summary: After Phil's five years of hardcore had finally ended, he was left with nothing but an empty space in his life.Unfortunately for him, life decided to fill that space with a Samsung Smart Refridgerator, a magic fridge that then decided to fill said space with children.Great.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 202
Kudos: 746





	1. Chapter 1

In stories, some people were blessed with magical items. A piece of furniture or place enchanted with unimaginable power. Like the magic tree house that could go anywhere at any time or the closet which was a portal to Narnia.

Phil was lucky to have his own magical piece of furniture. Unlike the Room of Requirement, it gave him not what he wanted, but what he needed. 

It also happened to be a Samsung Smart Refrigerator.

The way Phil acquired said item was almost as strange as the item itself. It was after his five years of hardcore had finally come to an end and his achievement had spread across the lands. He was revered as a hero, a man of many talents. A survivor.

He was back in society, with the promise of a respawn at all times and no more stakes weighing on his shoulders. Phil survived until he didn't, and now he didn't need to survive anymore. He could just live.

Phil knew how to survive. He didn't know how to live.

So there Phil was, returning to his home. After a large celebration in a city he hadn't entered for years, he made the trek back to the home he had built so long ago. When you're a sole survivor who had no contact with any other human for years, any and every sign of foreign contact was obvious. When Phil reached his front door, he could see the displaced dust near the windowsill, the scatter of dirt on the path, the stepped-on leaf. Someone had been in his home. Someone who wasn't Phil.

With tense movements, Phil grabbed his netherite sword and began to open his door slowly. His hardcore challenge had ended and he no longer had to fear death, but years of honing his skills and senses led to a constant sense of caution engrave into his bones. He expected to find an enemy, maybe a mob that somehow wormed itself in no matter how unlikely it was. Maybe even a rabid fan who was a little too enthusiastic about Phil's return. That was the scariest possibility.

He did not expect a Samsung Smart Refrigerator to be in the middle of the room ( _not even in the kitchen_ ). 

Phil was caught so off guard he almost dropped his sword. Almost. With even more caution and apprehension, Phil approached the fridge and noticed the small note taped onto the handle. Holding his sword in one hand, he took the note with the other and read, or at least tried to read. The note was filled with foreign symbols similar to those of enchantment books. Even though Phil was quite familiar with enchanting, even he could barely decipher the strange language. The only thing he could read was the little message at the bottom, the only portion written in neat, readable English.

"Congratulations! A little gift for your accomplishment. Something you needed, and probably didn't want. Signed -"

The last word was another undecipherable symbol, but Phil read what he needed. The fridge was a gift, a strange one, but a gift nonetheless. He didn't know if he should trust something given to him by a person who broke into his house without his knowledge or consent. The fact that the person could read and write the strange language was also quite unnerving. But looking at the fridge in front of him, Phil thought, 'Why the hell not?' 

Risks were no longer the guillotine over his head like before in hardcore. He could afford to relax a bit.

He opened the fridge. Empty.

Of course it was.

Phil sighed and slammed the door shut before rubbing his forehead. Today was too much excitement in one day. The combined emotions from losing his streak (to a baby zombie and spider no less) in addition to the high energy celebration right afterward did nothing but induce a major headache. What he needed at this very moment was a cold drink and some sleep.

At that moment, Phil heard a strange noise. From the fridge came a quiet hum, very similar to the sound from an enchanting table. 

Hesitantly, he opened the fridge. Instead of the empty space, Phil saw before, in its place was a pack of cold beer. The good brand as well. Phil stood there dumbfounded before he took a bottle for himself.

Huh.

He closed the door and stepped back to look at the Samsung Smart Refrigerator in all of its glory. Only now did he realize the lack of a plug or any possible energy source to power the fridge. 

_Huh._

Maybe it wasn't a smart decision to keep the fridge or even accept a drink that literally came out of nowhere.

But right now, with a beer in his hands and a big headache, the only thing on Phil's mind was sleep. And sleep he did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philza is not used to the sudden amount of free time given to him and needs something to do before he goes insane. (Un)fortunately for him, he has a magic Samsung Smart Refridgerator that can give him everything he needs... right?
> 
> AKA Philza finds that the magic fridge may be more cursed than blessed.

When Phil walked back into the living room and saw the fridge, he truly thought he was still asleep. Something he looked towards after the end of his hardcore goal was the freedom to finally sleep in instead of waking up at the ungodly hours of the morning. Sadly for him, habits were harder to break, and Phil was up (but not exactly awake) at the break of dawn and groggily made his way out of his room.

Was it so hard to believe that Phil was still dreaming?

He remembered the fact that the fridge magically conjured up beer from thin air. Yeah. He probably was dreaming. What Phil needed was some more sleep. Or coffee.

The strange sound came from the fridge once more. Too tired to care at this point, Phil walked over to the fridge and opened it, only to find a fresh cup of coffee. Coffee it was.

Taking the mug in his hand, he was surprised to find the mug was still hot even inside the cold interior of the fridge. It was still a fridge after all, despite the whole magical thing. Well, beggars can’t be choosers and while Phil wasn’t a beggar, _far from it_ , he wouldn’t mind choosing the coffee ready for his taking. He just hoped this wasn’t some elaborate trap or test of wills. He just needed some coffee dammit.

Phil sat down on a couch that he admittedly barely touch in his years of hardcore. Why would he when he was mostly outside in the skies or in other dimensions? He was lucky if he even made it to his bed to sleep ( _if he even slept_ ). 

He had to say that taking a break to do nothing was relaxing. Sitting on the couch and slowly drinking the delightfully delicious coffee, Phil began to relax and sink in deeper into the couch. Everything was so peaceful.

Until it wasn’t.

The serene calm inched closer to a quiet buzz. There was no actual sound, just silence. Too much silence. The hair on his skin began to rise and his fingers occasionally twitched. His gut wrenched at the lack of movement and his grip tightened around the handle of the mug. It’s been years since he had bothered to just stop and be still. 

He hated it.

He could be doing so much right now, building more machines, flying through the clouds, or getting more resources. But no, he had no need to anymore. He had nothing to do. The lack of action or productivity was driving him _mad_.

He wanted, no, _needed_ something to do.

Once again, the fridge made that damned sound. Phil leaped out of the seat, almost like a rocket. He marched towards the fridge, energy humming under a skin. He needed something, _anything_ , to do. Something something something _something_.

Phil opened the fridge door. Instead of another drink, maybe even a meal, a giant swarm of silverfish flooded out like a wave. It shouldn’t even be possible to fit that many silverfish into the fridge, much less for them to be there in the first place.

Almost like a reflex, Phil moved backward and summoned a shield in his left hand, and covered his face from incoming bites from the little monstrosities. It was impossible to close the fridge door with the barrage of silverfish in the way, only allowing more and more to appear out of nowhere and spill into his home. As the floor began to flood with silverfish nipping at his toes, Phil had no choice but to retreat to a higher floor up the stairs and close the door behind him.

The sound of silverfish was deafening, echoing in all the rooms and overcoming every other sound.

 _What the fuck_.

Phil assumed that the fridge was just magic that created drinks and maybe food on his own whims and desire. That itself was just unbelievable in its own right. The last thing he expected was for it to basically vomit a _fuck ton_ of silverfish on his lap.

Well if there was anything Phil knew, it was that standing still would get nothing done. He was a man of action and a man of results. He quickly marched into a room filled with chests and rummaged through. In an instant, he was dressed head to toe in enchanted netherite armor and a maxed-out sword with Bane of Arthropods. He was prepared for any situation, even if this particular situation was just _weird_.

Taking a deep breath, Phil swung the door wide open and brandished his sword. Time for some pest control.

Hours later, only when the moon was high in the sky did Phil manage to mercilessly murder every single silverfish. Closing the door had been the biggest hassle with him having to resort to pushing the entire fridge down on its front, forcing the door shut. After that, it was just hours of Phil sweeping throughout the house killing piles upon piles of the small cretins. They didn’t even drop anything, just endless experience that he was too tired to pick up.

Phil collapsed on the couch, too tired to walk up the stairs to his bed. His armor was ditched at the ground below him along with his sword. He was just so tired.

The adrenaline and buzz quieted into a serene calm. There were no more squeaks of silverfish, just silence. His fingers were sluggish and Phil sighed. All of his energy was gone. Everything was still, and for once, Phil didn’t mind. He fell asleep, tired but content.

The next morning, Phil was in front of the fridge, completely awake and alert. His arms were crossed as he frowned at the Samsung Smart Refrigerator and the foreign note. When he woke up, he was slightly tired and sore from yesterday's fiasco, but he was _determined_ to get to the bottom of the fridge mystery lest he ended up with another silverfish swarm. While it was great for releasing energy and truthfully something he needed, he would very much love to avoid that from _ever_ happening again.

He looked at the note once more. 

" _Something you needed, and probably didn't want_.”

It was now obvious that the fridge did not give what Phil wanted. He definitely did not want a swarm of silverfish. He even tested his theory by attempting to send his thoughts and desires to the fridge, waiting for netherite or some food to appear. Nothing happened, not even a sound.

So not a magic wish machine. _Got it_.

However, the first part caught Phil’s attention. ‘ _Something you needed_ ’. Perhaps this fridge gave him not what he wanted, but what he needed. The first night, he was in desperate need of a beer, even if that wandered a little into the “want” category. Same thing for the coffee. But subjectively, he understood how those items were things he needed.

Even the silverfish in a way made sense. Did he need a giant swarm of silverfish? No. Did he need something to do, a distraction to release the energy and tension he had? He hated to admit it but he did. Phil didn’t know what he would’ve done if he had done nothing but sit there, perhaps go mad and do something like count grains of sand. Work withdrawal hit him hard.

So when Phil finally had the silverfish gone, everything was still, and for once, Phil was _fine_ with it. Content even. It was peaceful. 

He was still salty about the silverfish, however. Completely unnecessary. Could’ve just given him a big puzzle or anything less extreme.

To test his theory, Phil took a small unenchanted sword and made a small cut on his leg. A small trickle of blood fell when the fridge made that ominous sound. Inside was a small band-aid with a smiley face pattern. He would have preferred a bit more than just a bandaid, but it was really all he needed (not that he really needed one in the first place, it was just a small cut).

Phil stood in front of the fridge, smiley face bandaid on his leg.

He had a magical fridge that gave him what he needed, but not what he wanted.

Great. _Now what_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to me self-projecting my frustration of not being productive through a fanfiction about Philza and a Samsung Smart Refridgerator. The next chapter is when the children start coming into play, I promise. This was just a bit more exposition and exploration of the Samsung Smart Refridgerator...
> 
> What is my life?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He fulfilled his needs on his own terms so the fridge didn’t have to. There was, however, a problem Philza couldn’t fix, and he doubted the fridge could as well. 
> 
> _Phil was lonely_.

In some ways, the Samsung Smart Refrigerator improved Philza’s life, just not in ways some people might believe...or wanted. It wasn’t a magic cure to all solutions, far from it. In fact, it often would cause more problems or embarrassment for Phil.

_He will never tell anyone about the nuke- he never needed it, the fridge was little-_.

Most of the time, the fridge remained empty and unused. It wasn’t as if Phil needed much in life, quite the opposite. He was a very, _very_ rich man with endless supplies. So when he needed something, it was either very dire or very minor and abstract. Guess which one happened more often.

The Samsung Smart Refrigerator gave Phil two choices. Find ways to fix his problems or the fridge would.

The fridge had what people might call a unique interpretation of what he needed. It was like a genie that would purposely twist your wish. The problem was, Phil couldn’t even make a wish. The fridge made it for him. If Phil needed something, unconsciously or not, the fridge gave him some roundabout solution that was definitely biased.

If Phil did not have his life together, then the fridge would take matters into its own non-existent hands and give him a push in the right direction. Most of the time, it was less a push and more of an unwanted punt into the flames.

The silverfish was the first example. Many, many more followed. When Phil refused to sleep and stayed up on useless projects to keep him busy, he had the misfortune of opening the fridge and was bombarded by a sharp, pungent smell that instantly made him pass out right there on the floor. In the morning, he had a sore back and found out that the fridge had summoned rags doused in _drugs_ that could instantly knock people unconscious. Cleaning that up was not a fun time.

Another instance was in an opposite situation where he felt for once no energy or motivation to move at all. He laid on his bed drifting in and out of sleep as the sun went down. Phil realized that he missed his meals but even then he wouldn’t budge. From below, he could hear the enchanting table sound that indicated that the fridge had another _lovely_ surprise for him. Without a care, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

Phil later awoke to a rooster screaming in his face and feathers floating all around his bedroom. That was how he found out the fridge could open and let out whatever it spawned out into the open, aka his house, without any outside intervention.

Great.

He once tried to leave the fridge outside, dump the strange object onto some poor soul who needed it more or perhaps the original owner. It later reappeared out of thin air in the same spot in the kitchen Phil placed it in. ( _Phil swore the fridge began to purposely summon more and more problematic items. Why in the world would he need a-_ ).

So Phil was stuck with a Samsung Smart Refrigerator that forced him to make good life choices or suffer. He suffered anyway, but who’s counting.

But he had to admit that although terrible, its methods were working. Phil actively searched and found things he could do to keep himself busy so the fridge wouldn’t have to. He got enough sleep and maintained a healthy balance. If he felt lazy, sometimes he could coax the fridge into giving him a meal so he didn’t have to cook. It worked a little bit, even if the food it gave him were often extremely healthy and on the bland side. Good for his health, bad for his taste buds.

He fulfilled his needs on his own terms so the fridge didn’t have to. There was, however, a problem Philza couldn’t fix, and he doubted the fridge could as well. 

_Phil was lonely_.

Now to his ears, the sentence sounded kind of pathetic, but it was true. In his hardcore days, his time was spent focused on surviving and being cautious of every little action. While he had no other person around, it just meant resources didn’t have to be shared or no distractions that could lead to his end. Now, with no goals or fear of death, Philza’s life seemed very long. Long and lonely.

He had pondered about this dilemma for weeks, maybe months now, but never dwelled on it too long in fear of the fridge taking action. But a particular trip to the city changed that. 

Even after years of being separated from society, Phil never really integrated back in that well. Not because he hated it, no, he missed the cities and people desperately. But the constant noises, the sudden movements, and the cramped spaces always built up too much anxiety inside of him. His fingers would twitch and he feared that he would accidentally pull out his sword on an innocent person. ( _He did once, but that's not the point_ ).

Still, even if Phil preferred isolation out on his own world, he loved to visit the city and just remind himself that he wasn’t alone. There was more to the world than his own. He missed the people, the buildings, the food, almost everything, and would visit constantly.

On one certain visit, he was at the park eating a donut ( _first time in five years_ ) when he saw a group of people at the corner of his eye. It was a loving couple with children in between and running all around. He smiled and watched as the family settled in the park with the adults supervising the little gremlins playing around.

He saw the couple holding hands, quick kisses being exchanged. There was a baby in one of their arms that began to cry, only to be consoled and quickly given love. It was just a perfect picture of familial bliss and domesticity. Phil couldn’t help but imagine a scenario where he was in that same picture. One of the adults with their life complete and so full of life, so full of people.

Phil quickly turned away. That was enough. Unfurling his wings, he rocketed off into the skies and tried not to smile when he heard the awed voices from the children below. He failed and smiled anyway.

Now at home, he thought of that family in his mind. The image repeated constantly, staying on his mind for the rest of the day. A deep feeling settled in his gut. It wasn’t jealousy, no. It was more of a… yearning. Yearning for some company. To no longer be alone.

So when Phil heard the same old enchanting table noise, dread crawled up his spine and choked him.

‘Oh god. Please no.’ Phil whipped around to the fridge and cautiously approached. Unlike most summons, the fridge this time was actually shaking, giving small occasional trembles. The last time this happened, there was something quite huge and quite alive in there.

‘Please tell me the fridge didn’t give me a girlfriend.’

He rested his forehead on the fridge and prayed to any higher beings that existed before opening the fridge door.

There was no girlfriend. Instead, there were two infants, mere babies, bundled in blankets and laid side by side.

‘Oh god. It’s worse.’

‘ _Children_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on an updating roll! Here's another brain rot chapter that finally begins to introduce the children! The next chapter will be fully focused on them so look forward to it! This fic is actually really enjoyable to write and is quite a contrast to the burning fire all around us these recent days.
> 
> Written by Nkhaotic! Come yell at me about how cursed this is on my tumblr @NKhaotic!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when you're given two babies by a magical Samsung Smart Refridgerator?
> 
> In Phil's case?
> 
> Suffer.

Phil would _love_ to say that two random babies were the strangest things to come from the fridge, but he honestly couldn’t. It was for sure high up on the list though. As for now, he had two different babies from unknown origins in his _fridge_.

The thing that scared Phil the most was the fact that the Samsung Smart Refrigerator was still an unknown mystery. He didn’t know how it managed to sense his needs or how it determined the “best” possible solution. Something else that plagued him was the question of whether the items it spawned were created or possibly taken from somewhere else in the world. Was it something brand new made by magic, or did it already exist previously?

If so, Phil was now an accidental kidnapper to two young infants. Taking a closer look, he realized that one of them wasn’t even completely _human_.

Phil honestly had no clue on what to do. He couldn’t return them to wherever they came from. If they even came from somewhere else. Anything that came from the fridge could not go back and had to be either disposed of or be hidden away out of sight. Both of those options, however, were not applicable in this situation ( _or were they_?).

His thoughts were disrupted when one of the babies in front of him began to gurgle and wiggle. Phil internally panicked, not knowing what to do before he opted to very slowly lift the baby. It was so _small_ , the body too light and swamped by Phil’s baggy sleeves.

His eyes flickered over to the other baby that remained silent and unmoving, unlike it’s... brother? Were they related? It’s little, unwavering eyes met Phil’s own. Trying his best not to drop the first baby, he somehow maneuvered the silent infant onto his other arm and was now cradling two babies in both arms.

What was his life?

He took a deep breath and tried to focus, even when the active infant was pulling on his sleeve. What were his choices? Phil could drop them off at an orphanage, that would make the most sense. He was a single man who lived alone with babies that weren’t even his own, but a pit of guilt and dread hovered over that idea. What if the fridge actually teleported things, and not created? These babies could have parents, family, looking for their missing children and it was inadvertently all Phil’s fault for being lonely. _It was however 100% the fridge’s fault and he was gonna find one way or another to completely dismantle it_.

Even if it wasn’t completely his fault, Phil had a responsibility to return or find the origin of these infants, if they _did_ come from somewhere else. He thought that was the most likely case. After all, one of the infants was what seemed to be a _piglin hybrid_ for goodness sake, and there was no reason for the fridge to create a child like this. If the fridge wanted to push children onto him, why did it take the extra effort to create a baby that’s not even the same race as him? The thought of finding the parents of not just a human baby but also a piglin hybrid made his problem just so much harder.

Phil didn’t want to, but there was only one way left in his mind. He had to somehow keep and deal with these children until he found out the mysteries of the fridge and returned them back to their home. In the case that the fridge does create things through magic and these babies were born inside a fridge, then Phil had no moral obligation to raise them. There were _plenty_ of orphanages.

He could do that… right?

Phil looked at the babies- he was getting tired of mentally calling them babies, and separating them as the human child and piglin child made him uncomfortable. They deserved a name at the very least.

Looking at the quiet child in one arm, Phil hummed as he pondered for a name. The child was silent yet gazing at him with curious eyes. On top of his head were tufts of pink hair.

“Hmm… I guess I’ll name you-” Phil adjusted his arms to look closer.

“Wilbur.”

The silent, human baby only blinked in response, seemingly uncaring of his new moniker. Phil slightly smiled before turning his attention to the now aggressively wiggling baby in his other arm. Like his brother, the piglin hybrid also had tufts of pink hair. Before today, Phil had never seen pink hair on a baby, _nonetheless two babies_ , but today was already just so goddamn weird.

“What to name you…” Phil wondered out loud. He was barely given time to think when the baby- _little gremlin_ managed to grab Phil’s hands with its little hooved fingers and cram it into his mouth before _biting_.

Phil cursed loudly and jolted, almost dropping both of the babies. When he got a good enough grip to stabilize them, he glared at the little piglin hybrid that just started innocently at him, its little floppy ears twitching up and down almost happily as it continued to nibble on Phil’s finger.

“You little fucker.” Phil probably shouldn’t have cursed in front of children but that’s alright, they were too young to understand anyway… right? Looking at the mischievous baby in his arm, Phil decided that he was just done with the world.

“Fuck it. I’ll call you Technoblade, you feisty little thing.” He didn’t know if he made that strange name out of spite or because he was done with life ( _probably both_ ). He might have heard that name from _somewhere_ but he couldn’t remember where or when. It didn’t matter anyway. In the end, Phil was going to find out whether they were created or brought here, and they would either end up in the hands of their family or the orphanage. They would be long gone before they grew up and even learned their temporary names.

So that was how Phil ended up with the two babies, Wilbur and Technoblade. 

A nasty smell began to waft through the air, and Phil grimaced. He looked over to the Samsung Smart Refrigerator.

“Well you brought these two menaces here. Mind bringing a change of diapers as well?” Phil asked hopefully.

The fridge stood still, not a single noise or movement. Nothing. _Of course_.

Phil sighed and walked to his many chests, Wilbur and Technoblade still in his arms. With his arms occupied, he attempted to clumsily open a chest with only his foot, barely managing to succeed without toppling over and dropping a child. Inside were piles of cloth, fabrics, linen, and more. 

Not exactly diaper material but it would do for now until Phil managed to get actual supplies. That meant a trip to the city… with two babies. He wasn’t going to think about that problem for now. 

Instead, Phil focused on the current problem. His arms were full, and one of the babies, if not both, needed a new nappy. He pursed his lips in thought. Maybe he could just place one of them down real quick and change one before switching? Was that okay?

Well there was no one there to guide him. Where was a helper when he needed one? Phil whipped his head towards the fridge expectantly. Still nothing. 

With a huff, Phil turned away and decided to set down a baby on the flat surface of another chest. He chose Wilbur, the more still and hopefully civil one, while he went to change Technoblade. With one arm finally free, he grabbed a soft cotton fabric that he prayed was clean and closed the chest before setting Techno on top. Said piglin baby was still biting Phil’s hand at every opportunity and began to fuss around with the lack of fingers to chew.

Changing a diaper for the first time was… interesting, to say the least. Piglin anatomy aside, although Phil struggled quite a lot, he got the job done, even if his work was shoddy at best. The very beginning was the most difficult, but he found that if he sacrificed a few fingers to the Technoblade’s surprisingly sharp canines, the baby boy was appeased and ceased struggling.

Now it was Wilbur’s turn. Turning his head to the other baby, he was met with the sight of the baby somehow flipped over on his chest ( _Phil placed him down on his backside he swore_ ). Not only that, but the baby was no longer in the center but now teetering at the very edge of the chest, his body already half dangling. 

Then, the baby- Wilbur had the audacity to notice Phil’s panicked gaze and _smiled back at him before diving headfirst to the ground_. Phil immediately dived and caught Wilbur in his arms just barely thanks to his honed reflexes. However, in the process of saving Wilbur, Phil’s fingers had left Technoblade’s mouth, and the piglin hybrid was _not_ happy. 

Technoblade began to cry and the active little bugger, like his brother, rolled off the edge, prompting Phil to once again carefully dive and catch another falling baby. Now Phil was on the floor, seconds away from having a heart attack.

The babies on the other hand were fine, ecstatic even. Technoblade now had fingers to bite and Wilbur? Wilbur was no longer quiet and was instead full-on gurgling little giggles while grinning widely at Phil. _Civil his ass_. Wilbur- no, _both_ of these babies were menaces.

Phil groaned and continued to lay there on the floor with the babies in his arms. First day and Phil was already _this_ close to punting these babies into an orphanage. Sure, it wasn’t the best idea to leave babies unattended on high surfaces, but could you blame him? He had fatherhood thrown at him without a single notice or choice! Two babies! 

He froze. Did he just say fatherhood? No no no, Phil was not the father of these babies. He shouldn’t even be thinking that way. _He refused_. These babies most likely already had grieving families looking for them. Even if they didn’t, he was just a temporary guardian. Keyword: temporary. 

He was not going to be a father. Not to some magical fridge babies or any baby for that matter. Not now and not any time soon. No way. 

A little coo broke Phil’s train of thought and he craned his neck to look at the babies. Technoblade seemed to have satisfied his biting frenzy and was now gently sucking on Phil’s thumb while occasionally giving him ditzy and blissed looks. Wilbur on the other hand was still smiling and quietly babbling towards Philza, no longer the still or quiet baby he was. He couldn’t help but think they were adorable. 

...Nope. Not a father. _Not yet_. 

The moment was ruined when Phil sniffed the air and made a face. 

He still hadn’t changed Wilbur’s diapers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tired Dadza is tired.
> 
> More baby shenanigans in the future I cannot wait to make Phil suffer. He can try to run but he's too busy drowning in denial. Accept your fate Philza Minecraft.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why are moving babies so difficult
> 
> Phil just wanted to go to the city dammit.

How do people even begin to  _ transport _ babies? If Phil struggled with changing their diapers, he had not even  _ begun  _ to face the nightmare of having children. Wilbur and Technoblade were  _ small _ . It should have been as easy and picking them up and moving to the desired destination but it  _ wasn’t _ .

First of all, there was the problem of  _ how  _ to even move both of them, whatever the distance. If it was for a brief moment of time, Phil could kind of carry one in each arm. However, if Phil needed to move them for any longer than a few brief seconds, all hell breaks loose. 

Technoblade in one arm would refuse to sit still and would constantly attempt to bite any part of Philza he could reach, mostly his hand and arm. He was grateful for the long sleeves of his haori that were just thick enough to only let him feel the little pricks of Techno’s canines instead of having it stab into his arms.

Wilbur on the other hand was just as difficult, if not more. While Technoblade was constantly moving, he had no real goal or purpose other than to bite.  _ Wilbur  _ had a goal and it was to somehow escape Phil’s hold, even if it meant falling to his death onto the ground below. Wilbur was all sudden movements and sneaky kicks that would always lead to Phil almost dropping the baby. So far, each attempt to make Phil an accidental murderer by dropping a baby had been foiled, if just barely. Each attempt however, did continue to traumatize Phil.

He had attempted to make carriers on his own, but fate refused to let him. Not only did he not know how to make one, but there was barely any free time from looking after the babies to even think of how he would create one. It was probably for the best in the end. Babies were delicate and if he somehow messed up badly with the carrier, he would rather not test it out with the babies. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if people saw Phil carrying children wrapped terribly in cloth in a sad attempt for a baby carrier.

Or the carrier could fail and the babies could fall… that too.

Luckily for Phil, the fridge had a rare moment of kindness and summoned a twin carrier that allowed him to carry one baby in the front and the other on his back. Phil was close to almost thanking the fridge when he remembered that it was the fridge that put him in this mess in the first place. He compromised with begrudging appreciation.

With much hesitation, Phil decided to have Techno at the front carrier with Wilbur at the back. It was a big risk considering Wilbur was the craftiest of the two and if any baby could somehow escape the carrier it was him. He just had to hope that Wilbur would behave away from his sight. But on the other hand, Techno was constantly restless and would repeatedly cry and scream. So Phil had to place him in the front so he could shove his hand in Techno’s mouth to shut him up. God he was so gonna invest in teething toys. His poor hand...

So now he could transport them, but how would he transport himself? Phil’s intended destination for today was to go to the city to get actual baby supplies and perhaps some advice and help. If he was left alone with these babies with no guidance something would certainly go wrong without a doubt. Well… they already have, but still.

The thing was, Phil’s preferred and most often used method of transportation was flying with his wings. The fridge was not intuitive enough ( _ it probably knew but didn't care _ ) to give him a carrier that would hold both babies in front of him instead of one in the front and one in the back. The very back where a pair of large, feathered wings rested. 

It was already a pain to somehow put the carrier and a baby on his back without crushing his wings. It took a lot of maneuvering and stretching his wings in places he never knew existed but he did it. But now, his wings were pressed against his back and unable to move. In other words, no flying.

That left… public transportation. The problem with living in isolation during his five year hardcore challenge was that he was, in fact,  _ very isolated _ . The nearest bus stop was a few hours walk away and the bus stop itself was on the very outskirts of the bus route and would take hours to even reach the city.

But he had no choice, and he  _ really _ needed some supplies and help. With no other choice, he began his trek through the forest and towards where he last saw a bus stop. Gods help him.

Phil had always liked to take walks throughout the various lands during his challenge. It was one of the very few things he could do other than endless work. He enjoyed the few moments of "silence". While he hated absolute silence, his walks were anything but quiet.

In the forests he could hear the crinkle of leaves shifting in the wind, or the crunch of sparkling ice when he walked on the snow. The sand shifted and brushed quietly along his clothes. The rivers trickled against rocks and droplets would scatter. No matter where he went, the sounds of his environment created a natural symphony that he could listen to all day.

A babble from behind him interrupted his thought.

“You doing okay Wilbur?” Phil asked rhetorically.

The baby cooed in response, and Phil chuckled at the timing. Techno, feeling the silent rumbles of laughter in Phil’s chest, began to giggle.

Along with the sound of his footsteps on the faint path, sounds of small laughter and babbles joined the sounds of the world.

_ This was a song he could get used to. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I last updated but in my defense I too had finals. Not that it really stopped me from drawing or writing other things...  
> Anyways, more cursed fridge fic chapters! 
> 
> Check out my tumblr @NKhaotic!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil finally gets some help, but the extra pair of hands might just make him suffer even more.

No one ever wanted to be stuck in an enclosed space with a crying baby for a long period of time. Phil himself vowed to avoid children for this very reason. Well, at least one of many reasons. So he could find the irony in the situation as he sat at the very back of a dingy bus with two babies screaming at the top of their lungs.

Life seemed to at least grant him a little blessing. Fortunately for him and anyone else with hearing, the bus seemed to be void of any other life other than the driver. It was probably because the bus stop was unreasonably far at the edge of civilization where no one lived. No one except for Phil of course. The driver themselves seemed too used to the ear shattering shrieks, not even batting an eye as they drove on. 

Gods, Phil pitied the bus driver and gave a moment of silence in respect. Of course, the babies didn’t care at all as they continued to release more air than what he believed their tiny lungs could even hold.

Well in fairness, it wasn’t purely screaming. Techno’s shrieks sounded more like a mix of squeals and wailing. Not wanting to be outdone, Wilbur began to cry alongside his… brother? 

Phil bet half of his items that Wilbur had no reason to cry other than to join in. Cheeky little brat. Technoblade on the other hand began to freak out the moment the bus started, most likely startled by the engine and unwilling to calm down. Even trying to shove his hand into Techno's mouth elicited no response other than a few weird looks from the driver.

Once again, bless the driver for not calling child services. Although that wasn’t too bad of an idea. Maybe Philza should give it a try…

But as Techno continued to flail around and cry, Phil had no clue on what to do. Carefully wrapping his arms around the baby and carrier, he began to gently sway and whisper random words. He didn’t know how any lullabies or stories, _why would he?_

So he was left with muttering random crafting recipes and tales of things he did during his hardcore challenge. It was probably the least interesting thing he could talk about, but the stories of him mining endlessly for sand or how he made instant farms seemed to bring Techno’s screams down to a more silent sniffle and whine.

Wilbur, hearing his brother’s cries die down, followed along and went silent instantly. _Fake little prick Phil CALLED it._ If Wilbur wasn’t on the back carrier he would have given him the nastiest glare, baby or not.

So for a good solid hour, Phil sat in his seat, consistently swaying and talking lest Techno started to cry again. His throat was becoming dry and there was still a couple hours left to wait. Once again, curse his isolation from society for his hardcore challenge.

The bus began to slow down, startling Phil. Even if it was an hour away from the first bus stop, they should still have been far away from the city. Who else lived so incredibly far away if they weren’t crazy like him? His answer came in the form of a short, dark-haired woman, and Phil’s eyes lit up in recognition.

“Kristin?” Phil asked. Said woman turned to the back of the bus in surprise and smiled brightly before walking over and sitting to the seat on his left across the aisle.

“Phil? It really is you! It’s been, what, five years?” She asked.

And it had been five years since he last met her. Phil had met the lovely woman a year before he started his challenge and befriended her while he was training and preparing. She was there when he began to have crazy dreams of breaking the world record and she supported him at every step. Even if her support was in the form of shooting plastic bullets with a toy gun to motivate him, it was still valid.

No doubt the five years had changed them both, but as he looked at his close friend, it felt as if they had met only yesterday.

“And- when did you become a father?” Kristin finally noticed the baby piglin hybrid hanging off his chest, staring at her with beady eyes. If she craned her head she could also see another baby on his back, also staring at her with intensity.

Looking back and forth between Phil and the babies, she had a conflicted look on her face. Almost instantly, Phil realized why. 

He had just finished his five year hardcore challenge with no contact with other humans. Yet he had not one, but _two_ babies that were certainly younger than five. One of them was even half piglin- _Oh wait oh gods NO-_

“They’re not mine!” He blurted out in a panic. That was not something he wanted anyone to misunderstand. That looked _bad_ and Phil knew it. Kristin just blinked before laughing out loud at his misery. They both knew what he was thinking.

After her laughter died down, Kristin finally asked him, “So why do you have two babies? I doubt anyone would trust you to babysit for them.”

Phil would have been offended if that wasn’t true. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead. No human in their right mind would trust him with a child. Then again, the fridge was far from a human and definitely wasn’t in its right mind.

“It… it’s a long story. Magic?” Phil began to explain everything from the top. He knew without a doubt Kristin would trust him, even with something as wild as a magical Samsung Smart Fridge. And even though she gave him weird, incredulous looks, he could tell she believed him. 

At the end of the story, Kristin was left stupefied. “Damn,” she whistled. “Sucks to be you.” Phil let out a laugh. Too true, _too true_. “Hey, at least they’re cute.”

Looking out the window, Phil realized that they were getting close to the city. During their conversation, a few people had stepped on the bus and sat near the front to avoid the short man with massive wings and two babies. Therefore, no one else had overhead their very strange conversation.

“By the way, why were you all the way near the edge of the city?” Phil asked. Afterall, she was on the bus long before they reached most of civilization.

“Oh yeah! My parents moved out into a small rural cottage at the outskirts two years ago. I was just returning back to the city from their visit.” 

Phil clearly remembered Kristin’s parents, lovely people they were. Then, something clicked in his mind. 

“Wait, you still live in the city, right? You think you could help me with shopping and getting help with these little gremlins? I’m desperate.” Phil begged her. It was true. Even with his common visits to the city, many things had changed over five years and he still was not used to the city life. Having a guide, especially one who was a close friend, would be a _blessing_.

“Not gonna lie I have zero experience or knowledge about babies. I’m probably clueless as you.” Kristin admitted while eyeing the babies. “But I do know the city and I’ll gladly show you around just to see you suffer.”

Of course, typical Kristin. But Phil would take all he could get. And it would be a lie if Phil said he wasn’t excited to finally be with Kristin again. It had been too long. He would always enjoy being with her, even if he had to bring along two little brats.

“Well I guess we can just suffer together.” Phil said. And as the bus came to a stop, finally at the city after hours of riding on the bus, the two adults and two babies walked into the city.

~ ~ ~

“No. No walkers. Gods know where they’d end up the moment I look away” Phil commented as he distastefully glanced at the plastic baby walker as if it personally offended him. Just imagining Wilbur in that gave him goosebumps. The child would never be seen again.

“Understandable. I think walkers might be bad for babies anyways.” Kristin agreed as she continued to walk down the aisle of the baby store.

The moment they had entered the store, Philza had forced Kristin to buy another carrier just so he could dump Wilbur onto her. Not just because he wanted to make her suffer as well, but because Wilbur- _the sneaky little baby_ somehow almost _escaped_ the carrier on his back. At least with Kristin, Wilbur would be at the front and hopefully be prevented from making another escape. 

While Kristin looked at some random baby toys ‘ _Buy black and white! Apparently children like monochrome colors better!’_ , Phil went to the teething section and proceeded to dump a handful of items into the cart. His hands were in pain, okay?

He also placed packs of diapers into the cart and sighed internally at all the diapers he would have to change in the future. At least he could now use actual diapers instead of makeshift ones. Phil quickly grabbed some baby lotion for the rashes that would probably form because of his ‘homemade’ diapers.

The two bought whatever items they could fit into the cart, Kristin choosing more freely since it was Phil’s money being spent. The biggest problem was buying things that couldn’t be easily carried or transported, such as cribs and changing tables.

Kristin offered to use her car and drive them back to Phil’s place with the furniture in his car. Despite how cheeky she could be, Phil could not emphasize enough how much he loved- _appreciated_ her. Yes. Appreciate.

Phil coughed silently into his hand and continued to listen to whatever Kristin was saying, probably some baby fact she looked up on her phone. Wilbur, who was hanging in front of Kristin, gave Phil such a knowing look that had _no right_ to exist on a baby.

Technoblade at least was currently content ripping a teething toy to shreds. One still not paid for but certainly will be later. And if Phil had a slight preference for one baby, was it really his fault?

A familiar stench began to spread and he groaned. He glared at little Techno who had dropped the teething toy onto the dirty tile floor and began to squeal, his diaper now full and emitting a nast smell.

Nevermind. Phil had no favorites. He disliked both babies equally with a burning passion. He tried to give Kristin puppy eyes, but she just raised an eyebrow and said, “You’re the one carrying him, not me”, with her hands up in the air. Having no choice, he walked all the way into the men’s room with the new pack of diapers, reminding himself to pay for those as well. 

As he walked into the restroom, he noticed another dilemma. There was no changing table in the men’s restroom.

Life _really_ hated him, didn’t he. Phil will never love children. He didn’t like them before and he certainly didn’t love them more after a baby zombie ended his hardcore challenge. So _why_ did the world decide to shove two of them onto him.

Well technically it was the fridge’s fault. Man how Philza would _love_ to just utterly _demolish_ the shiny metal piece of trash. But he still needed it to find out about the babies’ origins. Plus, the magic of the fridge would probably backfire on Phil and he’d probably be given more babies in retaliation. _Gods NO-_

With a frustrated pout, he stomped back out of the restroom and handed Technoblade to a laughing Kristin who traded him with Wilbur before going to the women’s restroom. Stupid store. What _baby_ store didn’t have changing tables in _all_ restrooms? It made Phil kind of mad to spend so much money on this store.

So when Kristin walked back out with a freshly changed and smiling Technoblade, the two walked over to the cashier and paid for their things before quickly leaving.

The chewed up pieces of the teething toy remained on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya y'all! More cursed fridge fic content featuring momza! I don't know too much about her other than some brief appearances on stream but I appreciate and respect her and hope my writing can do her justice. Here's a chapter I literally just typed up with no editing because this fic is pure brain rot and only exists because of brain rot.
> 
> Check out my tumblr @NKhaotic!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing ever goes wrong at a festival... right?

No, Phil was _not_ jealous. He was not jealous of the way Kristin affectionately held Technoblade in her carrier, tickling his puffy cheeks. He was not jealous of how Techno’s ears flicked up and down in pure happiness. No, he was not jealous.

If anything, he was more bitter. _Salty_ even. Bitter of how Kristin was the one to hold Techno _after_ they had bought the teething toys and no longer had to fear losing a finger. Salty of how he was forced to handle Wilbur. The boy was silent but a little menace and Phil had to fully concentrate to make sure he didn’t somehow die.

So suffice to say, Phil was in a bad mood. The lack of a changing station in the previous store didn’t help. And to be honest, he didn’t know if Kristin made it better or worse.

He looked to his side and saw Kristin taking a few pictures of Techno drooling over his toy. The poor child managed to get a tusk stuck in the toy, the tooth piercing the squishy plastic. Technoblade was confused as to why the toy stuck to his mouth and did little head tilts while the toy followed along. It was simply adorable. She smiled brightly while giggling softly under her breath. Well, maybe she did improve his day.

Quicker than he could blink, Kristin whipped towards Phil and took a surprise picture. There was a pause before she began to _cackle_ loudly. Without a word, she shoved her phone in his face, hand still trembling from her laughter.

“Look!”.

The picture she took of Phil was honestly one of the worst ones of him he had ever seen. The bags under his eyes were _large_ and brought so much despair. His eyes were actually very much bag-free before the whole baby fiasco due to the fridge semi-enforcing a stable sleep schedule. But now, he looked like a raccoon with how black the skin under his eyes was. Was this what everyone saw right now? How could he even show his face in public like this?!

But it got worse. His clothes were extremely rumpled from all the shifting he did with the carriers. His haori was meant to flow and move in the wind, not be constricted by the weight of babies. 

The wings on his back that often covered him like an elegant shawl was stiffly bound tightly in an awkward position, making him look like a tied up chicken.

In other words, he looked like a mess. A _monstrosity_. Oh gods he was ashamed to even take a step into the city. “Kristin, you didn’t tell me I looked like this?!” Phil almost shrieked. 

Kristin just kept cackling like crazy while also gasping for breath. Techno, who was confused but enjoyed the jerky movements from her laughter, began to giggle along as well. “Well I didn’t say anything because you look the same as always!”

Phil pouted. He did NOT always look like this. Sure, his appearance was the least of his concerns during his hardcore challenge, but even he had standards. Gods Phil felt like digging a hole right now to hide away from the eyes around him. He attempted to comb his hair and straightened his haori that seemed to have permanent wrinkles. The world hated him. He patted Wilbur’s head before walking away from the laughing duo. “You’re the only one on my side Wilbur.”

The baby babbled, almost in agreement, and Phil smiled. “Thanks son.”

Kristin trailed from behind, very much amused. She knew Phil didn’t even notice his little slip-up, but she certainly did. She subtly ended the video she was recording and put away her phone. This would be of great use in the future.

As the two walked down the street, the crowds around them became thicker as the swarm of people grew. Phil never went to the city that much, but even he knew that this amount of people was not normal. Making sure to hold onto Wilbur, he moved closer to Kristin and held onto her.

“Why are there so many people here?” Phil asked as he shifted to the right to avoid a body collision and instead received a small shoulder bump. He raised his arm in front of Wilbur like a shield and glared at people who lacked the common sense of not walking straight into a baby. 

“I believe there’s a festival going on today at the next block,” Kristin answered. “It’s been a while since you’ve been to one, right? Should we go?” 

Phil hesitated. He would love to enjoy a festival, the first one in so many years. But he had a responsibility now in the shape of two babies, one of them still in his arms. A hand rested on his arm, and he turned to see Kristin smiling at him along with Techno who curiously gazed upwards. 

He supposed he could enjoy himself, just this once.

Without a word, Phil just nodded and continued onwards with a beaming Kristin by his side. Now that he only had one carrier instead of two, Phil took the time to quickly adjust the straps in a way that finally released his wings. Without the second carrier, Philza’s back was unhindered and his wings were free to move. Slightly opening his wings, just small enough to not smack nearby people, he curled them around himself and Kristin as a natural boundary between them and the crowd. Just like that, the two made their way with ease towards the festival.

The four of them were nearing the block, only a small distance away from the corner, when Phil felt it. A small pressure against the outside of his wings. At first, he thought it was just a mere bump from a passing person, but that feeling stayed until it became an itch. When the feeling became a stinging pinch, Phil withdrew his wings and turned around to see another man.

A man with one of his feathers in his hand. _What the fuck_.

“It is you! I thought so with these wings. You must be Philza! I’m such a big fan!” The young man stood still amongst the passing crowd, people clearly annoyed by them milling around on a busy sidewalk. Phil himself was annoyed by being stopped, especially by a man who literally plucked one of his feathers.

Again, _what the fuck_.

Philza looked up (and man did he hate his height at this moment. He was not short, but so many people were just _so tall_ ) at the man who smiled brightly and twirled the feather between his fingers as if he had done nothing wrong.

“That was rude of you to pluck my wings, mate.” He gritted out. Phil didn’t want to be too hostile to a supposed “fan”, but he needed to set his boundaries clear. This man was up in his space, and he wanted nothing but to finally leave this crowded area. His previous bitter mood returned and his patience was running _very thin_.

“Oh I’m sorry!” the man said without looking remorseful in any way. “I just wanted to get a memento from meeting one of my idols.” What was he, some cheap gift store? But the man only continued to ramble on. “I’m one of the _real_ dedicated fans that kept a track of your hardcore challenge. It was awesome, although there were some things I would’ve done differently of course-”.

By this moment, Phil was so close to ripping out hair, either the man’s or his own. He tried numerous times to leave, sometimes not even bothering to say goodbye, only for the man to continuously hold him back. The man even had the audacity to tug on his wings and ask “inspect such a rare beauty” without his permission and he had ripped the man’s hands away with a growl.

Tired of the “fan’s” shit, Phil once again tried to leave, grabbing Kristin’s hand with the purpose of booking it when he saw movement from the corner of his eye.

“Hey wait I’m not-” the man called out as he reached outwards as if to grab him again. Only his hands were reached too low and were heading straight towards Wilbur. Phil panicked and was about to block the incoming hand when-

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Wilbur’s loud cry pierced through everyone’s ears as the baby began to shed rivers of tears. The people in the nearby vicinity were even more pissed off at the group. Not only were they still lingering around (against Phil’s many attempts), but now they had a screaming baby destroying their hearing. 

Luckily for them, most of their contempt was pointed towards the man, having enough sense to realize who truly was at fault. Looking at the scene, it seemed as if the man was attempting to accost a baby, and it wasn’t too far off the mark.

The man finally had the sense to look ashamed, most likely due to the stares he was receiving. Flustered, the man accidentally let go of the feather and they all watched as it floated down and slipped down a gutter. Phil was glad. He would rather have his feathers in the drains than be in the man’s grubby hands.

He could tell the man was about to ask for another one- actually no. The man dared to reach towards his wings for another feather, and Phil just about lost it. He clenched his fists, about to deck this man into the next week when Kristin gently tugged on his sleeve and intervened.

“What a brute! How dare you try to attack our baby!” Kristin shrieked loudly as she stepped in between. Phil recognized her acting voice, the sound a bit too forced and dramatic to his own ears. But it worked like a charm to others, attracting a lot of attention. Negative attention, all pointed at the man.

“What is that man even doing?”

“Quick! Move your daughter away from him!”

“Can you believe that man? Should we call the police?”

Murmurs surrounded them as judging eyes bore down onto the ingrate. Using this opportunity, Kristin pulled Phil away, finally getting them free from that situation. While one hand held onto Kristin’s as she dragged him around, the other was gently patting Wilbur’s head as Phil tried to calm him.

“It’s okay mate, you’re good now. You’re my little hero, aren’t you?” He whispered as he tried to wipe away the tears from Wilbur’s still crying eyes. He really did save them. While Kristin was fantastic and a godsend with her acting, it was Wilbur’s own breakdown that got the man to back away. Phil just wished the baby wouldn’t have to be so sad.

Phil was about to suggest they turn around and go back home, especially since Wilbur was still wailing. But that all changed when he looked up.

He expected to somehow sense the festivities as he came closer to the block. Yet as they walked closer, nothing seemed to change other than the large group of people. That is until they turned the last corner. It was somewhat jarring, to go from the bustle of city life to the loud, blaring noises of music and laughter. Surrounded by music and bouts of laughter, it was a surprise in itself that Phil didn’t hear anything until now.

Colors filled his visions as banners and balloons filled every space possible. Stalls and stages littered the ground as people tried to sell toys, food, and more. He could see a parkour obstacle course in the distance, and even a ring toss for the younger kids. Prizes upon prizes were hung and displayed, his eye drawn to a small plushie of a blue sheep. It was a _festival_.

The cacophony of sounds shocked him, Philza Minecraft, who was too used to the quiet bustle of nature and the world. But here, sounds echoed from everywhere, a mix of everything he had missed in his five years gone. There was music, monotone announcements, the yells of vendors, a crying baby… Make those _two_ crying babies.

Despite Phil’s attempts to soothe Wilbur, the baby was still sobbing, waves of clear tears rolling down chubby baby cheeks. Then, Techno, who was once content in Kristin’s carrier, began to squirm around. Phil didn’t realize it, but as they got closer to the festival, Technoblade started fussing around, almost irritated. The moment they stepped into the very middle of the festival, Techno joined in with his brother with his crying.

“Oh dear, I don’t think Techno enjoys loud noises.” Kristin frowned as she tried to sway Techno and calm him down, only for the piglin hybrid to cry even louder. Phil thought back to the bus ride, and how the start of the engine caused the baby to act up even then. The baby was most likely very sensitive to loud noises, which made sense for the mob hybrid.

“I think so too, maybe we should-”, Phil paused. 

Nearby on his left, he could hear the serene sound of strumming. A _guitar_. Sitting on top of a stool with a small box in front, a woman was playing on a guitar, and the sounds of strings carried through the air.

Phil would never forget the moment Wilbur’s cries began to cease, and his large, dark eyes simply _sparkled_ as he stared at the woman. More specifically, the guitar. The baby began to _beam_ , his tears forgotten as Wilbur began to giggle loudly. His eyes were still so puffy and red, but they squinted with what could only be _absolute joy_.

And Phil knew he had fallen right there and then.

“... Can you go ahead and wait for us at the park? We can head back to my place together from there,” Phil said quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment. Kristin gave a knowing nod and began to carry the tearful Techno away from the festival.

Now alone, Phil stood by in the middle of the festival, listening to the notes of the guitar together with his son. _His son_.

~~~

The moment they had entered Phil’s home, he was surprised to realize he had forgotten what silence was like. Techno had fallen asleep a while ago, immediately passing out the moment they had gotten off the bus and began the long trek to his isolated house. Bless Kristin for her patience and willingness to walk a few miles in the wild.

Wilbur too had fallen asleep and was currently with Kristin as she tried to lay them down in the newly built crib they had bought. With another pair of eyes to watch, Phil was finally able to get some work done without having to feel scared for the babies’ lives.

Leaving Kristin alone in the other room, Phil quietly walked upstairs into a room filled with chests. Almost all of his rooms had chests, but this one was filled with forgotten items, things he deemed unnecessary during his hardcore challenge. In turn, the room was dusty and covered with webs. He made the mental note to never let the babies here, at least until it was fully cleaned.

Walking to a wall with purpose, Phil rummaged through the many chests, looking for a specific item. He finally found it in a double chest crammed in a corner. With care, he pulled out a worn case and set it on the floor. Inside the black case was a guitar, one he hadn’t used in years. 

It had scratches from constant use, and the strings were terribly out of tune. But when he plucked them with his calloused fingers, the feeling felt so nostalgic yet foreign all at once. Phil would have to practice to get anywhere near the same level he was in the past, but as he thought back to the shine in Wilbur’s eyes, he knew that it would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I am SO sorry for the lack of updates for anything really. I've been suffering through really bad writer's block and was really busy with the holidays, school, and doing art. I've been struggling with writing, especially the Hanahaki fic. I'm trying to write a happy ending for once but my brain just shut down because I can't write anything that's not crack or angst I guess. Wax and I weren't even able to update Honeycomb yesterday so we apologize for that!!! We will try to update next Saturday, maybe even earlier if we can. 
> 
> Now about this fic! It's purely brain rot so I was able to push through and write some more for the cursed fridge fic! Beware because Wax and I plotted and this has an ACTUAL PLOT now. There will be things planned for the future, including such a CRACK ending that I am CACKLING. I can promise more constant updates with this fic and hopefully, I'll have the other fics up and running again soon.
> 
> Check out my Tumblr @nkhaotic OR my new Instagram @ileyank to see the art that distracted me a lot, specifically my Blood God Phil AU that potentially might be a fic in the future...


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely EVERYTHING goes wrong at a festival.

“So, how was your time at the festival?” 

It was late at night, the sun having long set to make way for the bright stars. Kristin and Phil were resting in the room next to where the crib was, the two children sleeping _peacefully_ for once. The adults were close enough to take care of any emergency, but far enough to calmly talk without the risk of making too much noise.

Phil was planning to sleep in the same room as the crib, already resigned to waking up around 3 am for their daily crying. He decided to spare Kristin by giving her a guest room far away from the nursery so at least one adult would have enough rest.

While Kristin had the will of the gods for making the trek to Phil’s house, even she wasn’t willing to make the walk twice in a single day and had demanded a room and a foot massage. He willingly gave in to the former request as Kristin has done more than enough to deserve it. Heck, Phil could easily give her all of his house in gratitude for all that she’s done today.

A foot massage though? _Nah_. 

At least that’s what Phil thought until she pulled a toy gun out of _nowhere_ and shot him repeatedly in the face. He thought he was safe. Kristin had no reason to buy a gun from the baby store, especially since the babies weren’t old enough to play with one. But he was a _fool_ and he should’ve learned from the past.

So faced with an endless barrage of plastic bullets bouncing off his face, Phil relented and was now massaging her feet until she asked the question.

Phil hesitated. “I mean… it went okay.”

_It did not go okay._

It _started_ out okay. Kristin had left with a sobbing Technoblade, little pig ears pressed against his head and tears falling as the baby became overwhelmed by the noise. Phil was tempted to follow and make sure Techno was alright, but the baby currently bouncing with joy in his own carrier stopped him in his tracks. He could trust Kristin to care for Techno. Right now, he had Wilbur to look after.

So as the woman continued to play on her guitar, Phil and Wilbur stayed to listen, with him slowly swaying along to the beat and Wilbur loving every second. He made sure to put plenty of bills in the tip box, smiling appreciatively as the woman gave him a knowing look before playing more upbeat songs. At this point, Wilbur was almost _vibrating_ as he jumped as much as a baby could in a carrier.

Phil made a mental note to look for the old guitar that he used to play years ago. The guitar he hasn’t touched since before his hardcore challenge. He would without a doubt be rusty, but he was willing to relearn if Wilbur enjoyed music this much. Who knows? Maybe he could teach Wilbur how to play when Wilbur grew older.

Phil ignored the voices screaming in his mind. _Would Wilbur and Technoblade even be with you by then? You promised you would return them to their families or leave them in an orphanage. They would be long gone before then_.

 _They aren’t your children_.

Unfortunately, all good things had to end. The woman finally let go of the strings and began to pack up. She gave Phil an apologetic look when Wilbur’s face began to scrunch up in displeasure. Before the baby could spiral into a tantrum, Phil decided to move along the festival to find other distractions.

And to be honest, it had been too long since he was in anything like this festival. It brought some sort of inner childlike joy from within, and with only a baby as his witness, Phil decided that he could at least indulge himself a little.

He walked towards the stall where he last saw the blue sheep stuffed animal but was met with disappointment when he realized the prize was long gone. Someone must have won and taken the toy while he and Wilbur were distracted by the music. What a shame. It called out to Phil. 

Even without the stuffed toy, he decided to play the game at least once. It was one of those strength tests. Hit the pad with a hammer and aim to hit the bell at the top. It was most likely not rigged since someone managed to win the blue sheep, but that didn’t matter to Phil. He paid the vendor for one try.

That was all he needed.

Rolling up his sleeves and picking up the hammer, Phil made sure Wilbur was in a safe position before getting ready. Not bothering to wait, he immediately slammed the hammer onto the pad with immense force, the whole stand shaking from the impact. With ease, the slider quickly slammed the bell at the top before falling back down.

He didn’t spend five years in complete, isolated survival without having the required strength. It may be hard to tell under the many layers and his haori, but Phil bore enough muscles and scars to display his strength. 

Besides, carrying two babies throughout the day was more of a workout than most days of his hardcore challenge.

Ignoring the slightly pale vendor, Phil looked over the prizes before frowning. It was a shame the sheep was gone, but he had to make do with other things. Most likely something for the children. In the end, he picked a small plastic crown and stuffed orca. 

Wilbur seemed to enjoy the orca, hugging it between his small arms before accidentally letting go. Phil decided to store the toy away for now in his bag with other baby supplies, certain that the baby wouldn’t be able to hold onto it for the entire day.

On the other hand, Wilbur seemed to dislike the plastic, golden crown. He shifted and craned his head away whenever Phil attempted to place it. Eventually, he gave up and decided to give it to Techno instead, hoping the other baby would enjoy it.

Satisfied, he moved onwards to explore more of the festival.

Phil bought himself one of those stereotypical cotton candy that was a must-have at festivals. He wasn’t too interested in such sugary treats but it added to the festive mood. It was puffy and pink and unfortunately drew Wilbur’s attention. 

The baby was staring at the cotton candy with an unbreakable gaze, not even blinking as he stared at each bite Phil took. Taking a pinch of the fuzz in his fingers, he hesitated for about two seconds before shoving it in Wilbur’s waiting mouth. 

He had no idea if Wilbur was old enough to eat solids, but he could roll over and crawl so he should be fine, right? Besides, he couldn’t resist the look the child gave him. It wasn’t even cute or pleading, but eyes that bore into your soul and read your life secrets. 

Wilbur, however, quickly proved that _yes_ he was old enough to eat the cotton candy and actually wanted _more_. 

“Wilbur! Stop it, you’re not Techno!” Phil admonished as the hungry child kept chomping and nibbling at Phil’s sleeves. His small baby arms made futile attempts to reach for the cotton candy, hands clenching and opening in a universal sign for ‘give me more you peasant’.

Phil sighed and took turns between feeding Wilbur and himself, dealing with the few bites Wilbur gave each whenever his mouth was empty. It kept the baby occupied, however, and let Phil meander around the different stalls and areas. 

He couldn’t enter certain places while carrying Wilbur, such as the parkour obstacle course or the fighting competitions, but he found solace in the many vendors and stalls around. One, in particular, caught his eye, a shady fortune teller stand that screamed fishy. And of course, Phil being an agent of chaos himself, was drawn instantly.

The premise was simple. Pick any number between one and a hundred and the following fortune would be on the back. It was merely a game of luck, not even real fortune-telling, yet Phil was intrigued. After all, why not? This stall didn’t even require money to pick a card for some strange reason. Anything that was free was welcome for Phil.

 _Then again, Phil got the Samsung Smart Refrigerator for free, and THAT certainly was NOT welcome_.

The man in charge idly gestured to the many cards and Phil chose.

“How about 16?” Phil said. The man plucked the card from the stand and handed it over for Phil to see. On the back of the card, the entire side was black with red and white details. There was a dark image of a skull and fire, the words, “WORST LUCK” printed in bold letters.

 _Of course_.

“Ah! How unfortunate for you. That was the worst possible card you could’ve picked. However, this stall does sell a multitude of items, even good luck charms that might help improve your luck!” The man gestured to the various array of trinkets before him with a bright smile.

 _Ah. That was why the fortune-picking was free_. 

Phil sighed. He should have known. Nothing was ever free. If it was, it was a scam. A clever one in fact. He had to give props for the man’s cheap and tricky tactic, even if it was fairly obvious. Most of the cards probably did have bad luck like his, just so the vendor could sell his wares. It was a little marketing gimmick in the end.

But Phil paused. He didn’t exactly have the best of luck. If this was truly authentic, then his luck was going to be absolute shit in the future, and he honestly believed that. But maybe it was a scam—

“Look Daddy! I got ‘Amazing Luck’!” A voice said to his left. There, a little girl displayed her cream-colored card with golden angel wings. Indeed, the words “AMAZING LUCK” were there in the very middle as the girl smiled brightly.

“...I’ll take a few charms please.”

Phil left the stall with a few charms dangling from his sash and one attached to Wilbur’s carrier, a small, yellow heart. In his pocket were two more charms, a pink and red heart for Techno and Kristin.

Deciding to completely erase that experience from his memory, Phil moved on past the stalls and looked around. His attention was drawn to a small sandbox that sat by the side, only occupied by a single baby that gladly shuffled around in the sand. Looking down at Wilbur, he wondered if he too would enjoy the sand.

He made his way to the small sandbox, nodding at the other parent there, before carefully lifting Wilbur out of the carrier. Again, he had no real indicator of Wilbur’s and Techno’s ages, but as long as they could sit up, they could surely enjoy some sand.

Gently, Phil plopped Wilbur down on the sand, finding amusement in Wilbur’s stiff body and wide eyes as baby skin came in contact with the rough sand. He let go and laughed out loud when Wilbur remained frozen, too shocked to even move. 

Seeing as Wilbur refused to budge at all, Phil decided to sit on a nearby bench, close enough to reach the baby within seconds if needed. He never realized how much weight was taken off his chest until he removed Wilbur and literally took a weight off his chest. But aside from literal terms, being separated from Wilbur, even for a few seconds gave him a reprieve he never knew he needed.

He looked up at the sky and watched the clouds roll by. It’s been a while since he watched the clouds on the ground instead of flying alongside them. The sounds of the festival faded into numb static as he breathed slowly. In, and out. He could hear nothing but the sound of his voice.

That and a very loud gasp. Whipping his head back down, Phil looked at the other parent in front of him, a woman who looked absolutely horrified. Looking back at the sandbox, Phil knew why. In fact, he let out his own gasp as he instantly lunged towards Wilbur.

Wilbur, who was no longer frozen stiff but shoving handfuls upon handfuls of sand into his mouth. Phil desperately grabbed the child’s jaw and forced it open, watching as piles of sand and drool dribble back down. But the baby had already swallowed most of it and grinned upwards at his dad, sand stuck to his saliva covered hands and chin.

He grabbed wet wipes from a pocket (they were essential as a parent of babies, he learned that very early on) and frantically rubbed the sand and grime away. Phi tried to force Wilbur to drink a bottle of water, only for the child to shove it away and aim for more sand.

Phil lifted Wilbur in his arms, not even putting him back in the carrier as he rushed away from the sandbox. He couldn’t even bear to look at the mother’s face from shame and swiftly moved through the crowd.

“Oh gods Wilbur why did you do that?!” Phil panic-whispered to the baby as he checked worriedly all over. He didn’t seem sick or bothered. In fact, Wilbur seemed overjoyed, _smug_ even. The only other emotion on his face was a bit of annoyance, most likely from ripping him away from his beloved sand.

“We’re going back home, right now,” he said to the baby. He didn’t know why he was talking to a baby, but Phil was just stressed, okay? He was pretty certain consuming large amounts of sand wasn’t healthy for _anyone_. Damn babies and their habit of shoving literally anything into their mouths. As he tried to speed through the crowds, he shoved a bottle in Wilbur’s mouth and hoped for the best.

Unfortunately, his quick escape was impeded by a large cluster of people. He tried to get around, but the crowds prevented him from passing through, especially with a baby. Phil sighed and submitted himself to a few minutes of waiting, but curiosity got to the best of him. Quietly apologizing to those around him, he used the massive size of his wings as a barrier and slowly moved closer to the middle of the crowd.

When he finally reached the very center, Phil stopped to stare in awe. There in the middle was a pair of fire dancers, gracefully tossing and handling what seemed to be chains of fire. They were doing a Poi dance, handling flames with absolute power and control. The duo danced around each other along with the beat of drums of violins, sparks flying as the chains struck the ground.

It was _beautiful_.

Phil truly enjoyed the sight, the dancing and fire clearly a wonderful art that even he appreciated. Wilbur did as well, the baby excitedly bouncing along with the beat. The awed crowd marveled alongside him as they watched the pair play with fire in the most stunning manner.

The Poi dance was truly amazing. 

It was a shame that Phil ruined it.

To be fair, it wasn’t completely his fault, but the man beside him. The very man he met earlier today who dared to pluck one of his feathers and was so disgustingly rude. The man who currently stood next to him in the crowd and easily recognized Phil, his biggest “idol”.

“Oh, it’s you again! I’ve been looking for you ever since you left me there!” The man exclaimed and oh how Phil wanted to either run or punch the man. Preferably both. “You know, it’s a shame you left so early. All because of your wife and brat.” 

_What_.

Phil didn’t know which part to refute and get angry about. He chose all of it. “She isn’t- he’s not-”, he began, only to be fucking shushed by the dude shoving his nasty finger in his face.

“I know, I know, you don’t wanna be rude to your mistress but she’s gone now! It’s just us two! Well, there’s this brat but he doesn’t really matter.” The man sneered and roughly poked the baby.

Phil had forgotten, but in his rush to leave the sandbox with Wilbur, he had forgone the carrier and decided to carry the baby in his arms. That decision was made clear when Wilbur began to immediately panic and squirm around as the poke pushed his small head back, prompting the rest of his small body to follow.

It happened too fast yet so slow as Phil saw everything through slow motion. His vision of panic as Wilbur was pushed too far back and slipped from his arms. What felt like a year to Phi was simply an instantaneous blur as he rushed to catch Wilbur. Wilbur who already began to cry tears and looked up at his dad with a frightened face.

And Phil _snapped_.

Before the man could even say a word, Phil whirled around, just as fast as he was catching Wilbur. With one arm strongly clutched around Wilbur’s shaking body, the other arm swung and full-on collided with the man’s face head-on. With the fury of a parent and the anger of Phil, his punch lifted the man off his feet and launched him into the air.

Into the air towards the very middle of the poi fire dance.

The dancers were luckily skilled and managed to stop and move out of the way, but not before slightly skimming the man who crashed onto the hard pavement. The fire from the chains quickly spread onto the man’s clothes, who groaned in pain before realizing he was on fire. Then he began to shriek in both pain _and_ panic.

The crowd began to scream and panic as well, shocked by the interruption as well as the punch. Luckily for Phil, the man was dramatic and overly loud with his reactions, his screaming echoing loudly. In the commotion he caused, Phil managed to push through the crowd and ran before people stopped him.

How a man with large wings and a baby managed to escape a busy crowd, no one knows. But as Phil ran away, Wilbur who was carried in his arms peeked over his shoulders and back at the people surrounding the burning man.

No one saw the baby’s eyes light up, brown eyes glowing orange as it reflected the glowing fires. His small mouth grew wide as the baby giggled and babbled. Eyes with burning intensity stared straight at the man who was literally burning and screaming.

Little did Phil know that this day might incite a long chain of events in a possible future. Perhaps, one day, Phil would look back to this day and realize the start of a nightmare, a possible sign of things to come.

But as of now, Phil was running away to the park, ready to drag Kristin to the bus.

He had enough of the city for today.

Flash forward to night time, with Phil and Kristin on a couch. One of them getting a foot massage while the other reflected over the chaos of his day.

“Yeah… it was okay.”

 _Phil made a mental note to himself to look up the possible effects of consuming too much sand_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow brain rot really went BRRR today! I wanted to bust out more chapters to get back into writing so I present you with this! Festival chapter pog! I can only really write fluffy stuff when it's filled with crack and man is it fun to do. Enjoy it while this lasts because I do have an ACTUAL PLOT planned and the CRACKIEST, and WORST ending EVER and it's HILARIOUS. Hang around until then and I hope you continue to enjoy my cursed fridge fic!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil knows he's not Wilbur's and Technoblade's father, and he never would be. But his resolve beings to break when a normal day is filled with too much blood.
> 
> Phil was not their father, yes, but that didn't mean he wanted to watch them _bleed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! For this chapter, there are mentions of blood so blood trigger warning! There most likely will be future chapters with blood on it because it's Technoblade and Philza, so I will try to add blood warnings beforehand!

Phil could barely remember a night where he actually got to experience the rare myth known as sleep. Everyday without fail, he would wake up to a duet of screaming from the babies and be left standing on nonexistent dregs of energy. 

So when Phil woke up around _midday_ feeling rejuvenated and rested, he panicked. The last time he slept this well was when the Samsung Smart refrigerator fucking drugged him. 

_Why did he sleep so well?_ That should not have been a possibility with those two cretins living with him. Was it because they finally slept in an actual crib in the next room? Was he just deaf to their cries and ignored them like a bad parent? _WERE THEY KIDNAPPED-_

He began to panic even more when he looked to his side and saw that the crib was _empty_. He threw away the covers of his bed and sloppily ran out of the room, only managing to slip on one slipper. 

Phil, in all of his glorious mess, stumbled into the kitchen without a single trace of grace. His atrocious bedhead and crumpled clothes matched well with his crazed eyes opened wide in fear. This picturesque model of a man was what basically barrelled into the room, only to find Kristin who was once gently cradling the two babies but now frozen and looking at Phil as if he was a mad man. He certainly looked the part.

“Phil. What the absolute fuck are you doing?” Kristin asked along with a deadpan stare. Her stare was judging which- was quite fair on her side. Phil looked like a demon dragged from the depths of hell and forced into the body of a homeless man. What made her stare even worse, however, was the other two pairs of eyes that looked at him with an equal amount of judgment as the woman holding them.

Wilbur and Technoblade were cradled in her arms, docile for once as they stared at their father. If they were startled at all by his abrupt entrance then they didn’t show a single sign. Instead, they looked amused, entertained, and as mentioned previously, extremely judgemental.

As Phil took his sweet time to finally take things in and process everything, Kristin just sighed and continued to do her own thing, giving him time to think for once. She turned around towards the kitchen counters and continued to read from her phone propped up against the toaster. With all three judgemental stares finally gone, Phil was able to finally get his brain working again.

“Oh I- gods sorry Kristin. I woke up to no screaming for once and when I saw them gone I just panicked and-” Phil rambled before stopping himself with a deep breath. He had to calm down.

Kristin continued to read, not even bothering to look up at the mess of a man. “Hmm, I thought so. I woke up early and managed to deal with them right before they started to cry. Wanted to let you get some rest because you…”, she glanced towards his feet and his single slipper. “... clearly needed it.”

Phil groaned and lightly rested his head against the doorframe, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he sprinted that fast, especially since used his wings almost more than he used his own feet. With a tired voice, he said, “Thanks again, Kristin. I- I really mean it.”

She smiled at him with amusement before nodding towards the door. If she had her arms free, Phil knew she would be shooing him back into his room to try and look decent and human for once. So reading her mind, he smiled and turned to head back to his room. He really wanted his other slipper.

“It’s fine, Phil. It just shows how much you love and care for Wilbur and Techno. You’re a good dad.”

Phil froze. Kristin's words were casual, almost like a last-minute addition. But he could sense the hidden implications. 

“I’m not. I’m not their father and they’re not my sons. You _know_ this.” Phil’s words were bitter in his mouth as he left the room. He felt a bit guilty for aiming such venom towards her. She did nothing wrong, but the truth was never nice. He could almost feel her gaze digging into his back as he walked away. Like before, it was as if he could almost read her mind.

_Do YOU know this, Phil?_

… No. He _knew_ this. He _had_ to. These weren’t his babies, just random toddlers summoned by the fridge. For all he knew they could have been created from nothing, a jumble of magic aimed to make his life miserable. The more likely situation was that the two had parents, had a _family_ out there.

He wasn’t blind to how his walls were wearing down. How his accidental slip-ups became less and less accidental and more intentional. Days spent trying to resist strangling someone somehow blended into moments of peace and _warmth_. 

When did Wilbur’s cheeky smile change from annoying to endearing? How did Technoblade’s little ear twitches or fangs that got stuck on his lips become a highlight of his day?

Why why _why_ did he want to be their father, for them to be his _sons_ . Domestic lifestyle was never in his mind, not since he stepped out into the wild years ago to start his hardcore challenge. But that lifestyle was gone now, and the scene with Wilbur, Technoblade, and _Kristin_ by his side called out to him, almost as if this lifestyle wasn’t just a dream but a real _possibility_.

But it wasn’t. It _couldn’t_ be a possibility. It wasn’t even ever an option.

Phil was just a caretaker at best and a kidnapper at worst. He was nothing to the babies, and they meant nothing to him. And he- he had to believe that it was true. Because Wilbur and Technoblade were just- those weren’t even their actual _names_. Gods, he felt sick just thinking about it.

He had no right to even hope for that lifestyle. The life as a _father_. Not when he could have possibly ruined so many lives. Phil was not meant for this, and he never would.

And with that, Phil entered his room.

~~~

When Phil finally reentered the kitchen, he’s less bedraggled and more put together. Clean. He was out of his messy pajamas and into his typical clothes with the sleeves rolled up. His bed head was gone and replaced with hair neatly combed into a bun. He even had both slippers now.

But as he looked into the room, Kristin still had her back turned to him. Except for this time, it seemed to be more on purpose. Phil just ignored the slight animosity emanating from Kristin and moved towards the living room. There, Technoblade and Wilbur sat inside a baby-proofed enclosure with foam mats and toys strewn about.

The babies still remained calm and contained none of the coldness Kristin had. Instead, their innocent, wide eyes felt warm and drew Phil closer. After all, they were too young to even understand the interaction between him and Kristin. He was glad they didn’t.

He leaned lightly on the fences and peered down onto the babies, both of them sitting up and looking back at him. Phil smiled and made silly faces as he reached a finger towards them, twirling the small bits of hair that started growing.

Wilbur’s curly pink locks twisted around his finger and Wilbur giggled at the feeling. The baby tried to reach his little arms up towards Philza’s hand, only to fail and fall on his back. With Wilbur out of his reach, Phil moved onto Technoblade who watched the interaction intently. 

When Phil’s fingers reached towards Techno’s hair to do the same, Techno expected it and immediately dropped his saliva-covered toy from his mouth and _pounced_ . Small yet _sharp_ fangs bit down on his fingers and Phil resisted the urge to curse.

They bought teething toys for a _reason_ dammit. Phil left his fingers in his mouth, not wanting to pull away and hurt either his hand or Techno’s teeth. He had no choice, however, when he finally noticed a trickle of red drip down Techno’s chin.

 _Blood_.

Phil immediately pulled his hand away, luckily not harming Techno but definitely leaving gashes on his hand. The baby was frozen, almost dazed when Phil grasped his chin and checked around for any injuries. To his relief, other than the smears of blood, Techno seemed to be unharmed.

Finally, Phil looked back to his cut hand and realized. _Oh_ . It was _his_ hand that was bleeding. Technoblade was a baby, yes, but he was a piglin hybrid as well. The few bits of teeth he had grown weren’t small and stubby like Wilbur’s but sharp and long. 

The cuts didn’t bother Philza too much. It was far from the first time his hand, or any part of him, was injured and, for a moment, he was barely fazed. He was even more used to Techno’s constant biting, but this was far from a mere nibble. Techno’s pounce carried momentum and for once the baby bit _hard_. Hard enough to finally draw blood despite Phil’s thick skin.

He was worried. Not for him or his hand, but for Techno and Wilbur. Would Techno’s teeth hurt him? He had little knowledge of piglins or piglin hybrids- _something Philza vowed to soon change_ \- and he was scared that his human side wasn’t well equipped for the piglin side. Fears of Techno biting off his own tongue or cutting himself on his fangs sent warning signals all over.

Then there was _Wilbur_ . Technoblade and Wilbur always stayed together. They were brothers after all… at least Phil thought so. But Techno had the habit of biting anything near him and he was worried that his next target would be Wilbur. Technoblade hadn’t bitten or even attempted to harm Wilbur yet, and he hoped that fact would forever remain the same. But if Technoblade could pierce through his sturdy, calloused hands, then those fangs could _easily_ pierce through smooth baby flesh-

“Oh my gods, Phil! You’re bleeding!” Kristin called out from behind him. He heard the noises of rushed footsteps and slamming drawers before she appeared by his side with a first aid kit. By first-aid, he meant a large sack of top-notch healing potions and seemingly endless medical supplies. With how often Phil got injured, a normal first-aid kit wouldn’t cut it.

But even when Kristin grabbed his hands to douse it in potions or bandage it, Phil’s eyes didn’t leave Technoblade. The baby was still frozen, his eyes glossed over and oblivious to the world around him. It concerned him.

Even Wilbur managed to sense something was off. After managing to lift himself back off the floor, he crawled over to Techno and slapped his hand against his piglin ears, only to garner no response.

His eyes went back towards the blood smears and trail of blood on Technoblade’s chin. Was it the blood? Humans, especially babies were not supposed to consume blood, but what about piglins? What if blood was _poisonous_ to piglins?!

_He swore the next thing he would do is read up on piglins-_

In a panic, he used his non-bloody hand to grab a towel from the first-aid kit to clean Techno’s chin. He had to get the blood away _now_.

When Phil moved towards the baby’s mouth, Techno finally seemed to snap back to reality. But something was _wrong_ . Just like before, Technoblade _lunged_ towards the hand. But unlike last time, Techno was faster, more… _feral_ . His fangs seemed to elongate before their very eyes and his once glossy eyes were now sharp and focused, red pupils squeezed into tiny slits. The piglin hybrid _snarled_ as he jumped forwards, aiming to certainly do more than just nibble.

This time, Phil was more prepared and withdrew his hand, wincing at the mere force behind Techno’s jaw which clamped shut with a loud clack. Even if he was ready, it didn’t stop the utter shock on his and Kristin’s faces.

Almost immediately, Technoblade crawled over (and if that didn’t only remind them even more that he was just a _baby_ ) and violently scratched against the enclosure walls with nails the Phil _swore_ weren’t there yesterday. In a horrid cacophony of growls and snorts, the baby was ferociously attacking without a second thought but to bite. To bite _Phil_.

“What’s wrong with him? Oh gods, what if he bites Wilbur?!” Kristin’s panicked shriek next to him and Phil snapped his head towards the other baby. Wilbur sat still near Techno’s side, but even he looked as concerned as a baby could. Soft, brown eyes began to tear up as he stared at his brother in fear.

Phil was also scared. For both Wilbur _and_ Technoblade. He quickly tried to grab Wilbur to get him out of the pen, but Techno tracked his every movement and once again pounced when he just barely had Wilbur in his reach.

Like instinct, Phil withdrew his arms only to realize his mistake. Techno was aiming for where his arms just were, where _Wilbur was_ . He immediately dove back in, whether it was to shield Wilbur or pull Techno away, he didn’t know. But he had to do _something_ -

Just a breath away, Technoblade stopped mid-pounce and stared into Wilbur’s warm brown eyes with his own blood-red ones. _Red_. Has it always been red? 

From the start he always assumed the two were the same, excluding the piglin traits. Pink hair and brown eyes. _Wilbur_ had brown eyes, but did Techno?

Phil felt a sick feeling form in his gut, almost as if he was ashamed of himself. He never really noticed, never bothered to care about the babies’ eye colors of all things. He was more focused on keeping all three of them alive.

In a way, Phil _was_ ashamed. He was a _terrible_ father. But then again, he wasn’t a father. Not at all. So why did the very idea of not even knowing something as simple as _eye_ color feel like acid on his tongue?

“PHIL!” Kristin’s scream brought him back out of his thoughts. 

_Oh gods_.

Phil became distracted right when one of his babies was about to attack the other one. He truly _was_ a shitty father. But when he focused back on the brothers, he didn’t find carnage or bloodshed, but two babies who were still frozen in place.

Wilbur’s look of fear was long gone, now replaced with childish curiosity. Technoblade on the other hand still had red slit pupils and snorted heavily through his nose, but he wasn’t biting or doing anything close to harming Wilbur.

Only when another trail of blood trickled down Techno’s chin, over the bloody smears from before, did they move. This time, it wasn’t Phil’s blood. The baby snarled and whined in pain as he snapped in random directions, every way but towards Wilbur. Then it hit him.

“His bites are hurting himself. He’s bleeding-”, Phil began in a panic. Kristin, who came to the same conclusion but seemingly faster, already had another cloth in her hands.

“Phil. I need you to hold him so I can gag his mouth. We can’t have him biting anyone or himself,” she ordered. Phil hesitated for only a second before nodding. Quickly bringing up his inventory, he rapidly scanned through his slots before he pulled out some rubber gloves that he used for cleaning and never put back.

He quickly put them on with Kristin yelling at him to hurry up behind him. With his arms protected, he went to grab Technoblade. This time, he didn’t pull back. He expected the lunge and caught the piglin hybrid mid-air. Phil held him in the air, trying to limit the movement of his arms despite the amount of thrashing he did. 

Even when he was out of reach, Techno still tried to snap at Phil’s arms or face with a sense of wild desperation. His claws wildly swung around and scratched away at the gloves. Despite Phil’s attempts of protection, his claws cut through and shredded the rubber with ease and dug deep into his arms. More beads of blood began to form, making the baby twitch and bite even harder.

Phil gritted his teeth and hissed at the pain but held on. Luckily, Kristin worked fast and efficiently, quickly bringing the cloth in and around his fangs and mouth as a gag before tightly securing it. After that, she began to wrap his small hands and claws with more clothes, binding them closed in quick succession.

With all sharp bodily features bound away, Kristin took him away from the enclosure, away from Wilbur, and strapped him onto a baby’s chair in the kitchen. Phil moved to follow here but was stopped by Wilbur’s small cries and whines.

Tears were flowing down his soft cheeks, but whether from fear or something else, Phil didn’t know. He was about to grab Wilbur when a drop of blood dripped onto the baby’s cheek.

 _Fuck. He was still bleeding_. 

He heard loud noises in the kitchen behind him and rushed. Phil removed the shredded remains of the gloves off his arms and quickly dropped them to the ground with care. He decided to skip on bandages and quickly wiped his scratches with a towel before rolling down his sleeves to cover them. With less blood freely flowing from his arms (although he was definitely still bleeding), he picked up and cradled Wilbur before running to the kitchen.

There, he saw Technoblade on the chair and thrashing around but unable to do anything with his mouth and hands bound. Instead of the vicious animal Phil had seen just a few seconds ago, this Technoblade looked less feral and more… pitiful.

His slit pupils shook inside his wide eyes, darting everywhere. There was a fresh sheen of tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. Muffled whines and cries outnumbered his snarls as he swung his head wildly, almost banging it desperately against the chair. With his mouth gagged and body strapped to the chair, Techno looked _miserable_.

Technoblade looked more like a tied-up criminal than a baby. Despite the deep cuts and deadly sounds, he wasn’t a wild animal. He was a _child. A baby_.

If Phil felt sick earlier, he was seconds away from hurling. This sight should never have existed. His baby should never have had to experience this fate. 

_Why was this happening?_

“I don’t know,” Kristin answered beside him, making him realize he spoke out loud. She too looked just as heartbroken and sick as Phil. Anyone would be when forced to bear witness to this sickening scene. “I- might have a theory though.”

Phil nodded and urged her to continue. He knew nothing but the bare essentials of piglins, and information about gold trades and bastions didn’t help at this moment.

“Piglins are related to zombie pigmen. Maybe they have some sort of mob mentality. If you harm one of their own, they all group up against you...” Kristin trailed off in thought.

It was a reasonable theory. If anything, that made the most sense to him. He couldn’t think of anything else that might have caused Techno to succumb to such a frenzied state. But…

“That might not be the case. I was the one who got hurt by Technoblade in the first place. Why would he hurt me then become crazed over that?” Phil asked. 

He could still feel the deep cuts and bites along his hand and arms, and Wilbur’s weight in his arms became a little bit heavier. Kristin, realizing he was still bleeding, quickly grabbed Wilbur from him and cradled the baby in her arms. He was thankful, but he couldn’t tell if she did that for his sake or because the blood was about to seep into the yarn of Wilbur’s small sweater. Considering how she was angry at Phil, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter.

“Well maybe he considers you a part of his pack and he's just blinded by the fact you're hurt? Ever consider that?” Kristin eyed Phil, almost as if she was forcing him to accept her words. But Phil couldn’t.

Him? A part of Technoblade’s pack? The baby was the one who wanted to harm him in the first place. Kristin was just reaching at this point, too stubborn to see anything else. Her theory was faulty because he wasn’t a part of whatever conceptual fantasy of a family Kristin believed in. It was simply logic.

“I’m not part of his pack-” Phil ignored Kristin’s withering stare and continued on. “But Wilbur most likely is. Whether it’s because of their blood bond as brothers, _I assume_ , or some other bond, but Technoblade didn’t hurt him.”   
  
Kristin stopped glaring and only looked at the baby in her arms with surprise. “You’re right! Techno even stopped before he could harm Wilbur. I wonder…” 

Before Phil could even stop her, Kristin held Wilbur in her hands and placed him directly in front of the tied up Techno. He tried to pull them back, only for her to stop him. 

“It’s okay. Even if Techno tries to hurt him, his mouth and claws are bound away.”

Even with that reasoning, this still screamed like a bad idea to Phil. Everyone else, however, seemed to be oblivious to his feelings of incoming bad omen. The moment Wilbur was placed in front of Techno, hovering in mid-air as he was held by Kristin, his trashing died down to a lull as his shaky pupils focused on his brother.

Wilbur, finally close to Techno, tilted his head in curiosity before smacking the cloth that gagged Techno. Phil winced on the inside, afraid that Techno might just break through the gag and bite Wilbur’s hand off. Instead, the piglin hybrid just gave out a muffled snort and tilted his head like a mirror reflection of Wilbur. This seemed to please the baby who continued to pat around Technoblade’s face with amusement.

Technoblade seemed to finally calm down, left with only sluggish movements apart from the occasional twists. He seemed content to stay still and let Wilbur touch around his face and hair. Every time Wilbur brushed his ears, they flicked aggressively much to Wilbur’s amusement who immediately targeted the ears.

Kristin smiled softly at the sight and whispered to Phil. “D- do you think he’s okay now? I really don’t think he’ll harm Wilbur. Actually-” Kristin changed her grip to hold up Wilbur with only one hand, leaving her other arm free to reach towards Techno. While Wilbur remained undisturbed by the movement and continued to poke around Techno, the other baby warily eyed Kristin’s hand and flinched when it came close.

She slowed her hand slightly, reaching behind Technoblade’s head to the knot of the cloth that gagged the baby. In an instant, the cloth fell to the ground and released his mouth and fangs.

“Kristin, wait-” Phil cried out. But it was too late.

With his mouth free, Techno lunged his upper body forwards as much as he could with the chair restraints. His fangs were close- _so close_ to Wilbur’s face and-

A tongue slipped past tiny, sharp teeth and licked Wilbur’s face, causing the other baby to giggle in surprise. There was no bite or bloodshed. Instead, Technoblade was calmly licking Wilbur’s cheek. Or to be more specific, the drop of blood that splattered onto the baby’s face from Phil’s wounds. 

In hindsight, the sanitary thing to do would’ve been to wipe the blood off Wilbur, but with all the panic and worry of Techno, Phil seemed to have overlooked it. Kristin as well. But now, Technoblade was contently wiping the blood off of Wilbur, even cleaning up any smears that he might have caused. Only when all the blood was gone did Techno pull back, much to Wilbur’s dismay.

It clicked.

“Blood. His frenzy is caused by blood.” Phil said. His theory might have been outlandish or faulty like Kristin’s, but for him it made sense. Technoblade had bitten him many times before but never drew blood. This was the first time he bled in the vicinity of the babies, around _Techno_. 

Only when blood fell from his hand did Technoblade react.

Kristin pondered this for a moment before humming in agreement. “Perhaps. If that’s the case, you and your bleeding arms won’t help at all. Take Wilbur upstairs and put him in his crib. I’ll take Technoblade to another room. We’ll try to find a way to calm him down then.”

And with that, Kristin passed Wilbur back to Philza, staring at his bloody sleeves in distaste. She then gagged Techno once more with immense hesitation and guilt before carrying the squirming baby to another room upstairs. 

Phil followed from behind but took a different turn. He entered their nursery and quickly grabbed some baby clothes while trying not to taint them with his blood. Changing Wilbur was difficult, even more so when your arms were bleeding, but he managed.

Finally, he laid Wilbur down in a crib, only to frown when the baby began to fuss around and whine. Pitiful eyes stared into Phil’s own as small baby fists clenched around his own fingers, almost begging him not to go. 

Why did babies have to be so adorable? He bit his lip and sighed before giving a small kiss on Wilbur’s forehead and whispered. “It’s okay Wilbur, your brother will be fine. We’ll make sure of it.” And with that, Phil left the room, a pair of eyes staring at his back as he disappeared.

Walking into the bathroom, Phil finally cleaned himself and the blood dripped down his arms. The warm water made his wounds sting, but he ignored it in favor of cleaning his arms faster. When he was done, he wore new clothes similar to the ones he was previously wearing. With that amount of blood and shredded sleeves, the old clothes were most likely going to be thrown away if not burned.

Once again, he blessed his foresight to pack the “first-aid kits” everywhere around the house, including the bathroom. Drenching the bandages and his wounds in healing potions, he watched as some of the gashes slowly closed together. If he wanted them to fully heal, he would probably have to use more potions or wait longer, but he wanted to hurry. The wounds were closed enough to stop bleeding, so after a simple roll of bandages, Phil considered himself done and immediately went towards Kristin and Technoblade.

He opened the door and saw that he wasn’t the only one who cleaned up. Phil was slightly surprised to see Techno in new clothing that wasn’t covered in blood. Even with his mouth and hands tied, Kristin still must have struggled with all of his thrashings. Technoblade’s face was also clean, cheeks and chin freshly clean from blood smears. Only the gag in his mouth remained bloody, but that was from the cuts inside Techno’s own mouth.

Even so, the considerable change of environment and the lack of blood clearly affected the piglin hybrid. His movements were sluggish and slower like it was with Wilbur. But Wilbur certainly wasn’t anywhere near.

Techno’s eyes were still bloodshot red and he could see the thin pupil slits even under hooded eyes.

“At least I think your theory was right, Phil. It was blood that made him crazy. I don’t know why though. I’m pretty sure that’s not a piglin trait, just something else entirely.” Kristin said. She was tired, and Phil realized that he was too. He wasn’t sure what time it was. It started at mid-day but it must have been nighttime by now.

But she was right. This blood frenzy wasn’t from his piglin side, at least he didn’t think so. There was no connection between piglins and blood. This must have been a phenomenon solely relating to Technoblade, but what?

Could it have been a side effect of the fridge? The Samsung Smart Refrigerator was an object of complete magical mystery. He was even frightened at the extent of its powers. Was it responsible for this affliction? And if so, did it do something else to Wilbur who also came from the fridge?

Phil sighed. There was no use in asking questions, especially about the foreign fridge of which they knew nothing about. At least if it _was_ a piglin trait, they could research or learn more about it. That was something actually accessible and known. Things such as bastions and their desire for gold-

 _Gold_.

Piglins were _obsessed_ with gold. Phil himself was very much acquainted with that fact, having traded with piglins numerous times during his hardcore challenge. Technobalde was a pigling hybrid, but surely he must have been born with some part of their obsession?

Phil could grab any of the gold items in his chests. He had _plenty_ after all. But before he could move or leave the room, his eyes were caught on the little plastic toy crown that he had earned at the festival with Wilbur. The crown was shiny in an obvious imitation of gold. It was fake and was nowhere near realistic, but would it work?

He had always meant to give this to Technoblade anyways, and if it didn’t work, then he had plenty of gold in his storage. Grabbing the toy crown, Phil walked over to where Techno laid in his own enclosure, glaring at Kristin as he struggled with the binding cloth. But when the baby laid eyes on Phil, more specifically the crown resting in his hands, he froze.

The stare at the crown was intense and his eyes glossed over, almost like before. Phil hesitated slightly before he gently pushed Techno up into a sitting position and carefully balanced the crown onto his tufts of pink hair.

Throughout this entire ordeal, Techno was frozen stiff. Only his eyes moved, following the movement of the crown as it was gently placed on his head. His eyes almost rolled into the back of his skull attempting to look at it, but he made no effort to squirm or take it off. Instead, Techno sat still.

Then, he smiled. Giggles then laughter bubbled out of his small mouth, still muffled by the gag, but he didn’t care. His eyes squinted closed in joy as he began to clap his tied hands together. He began to slightly bounce in excitement, only to freeze when he felt the crown begin to slip. 

Phil, seeing the fear in his eyes, quickly adjusted and made sure the crown was tightly secured. This only brought more joy to Techno who began to squeal loudly. Even his ears began to puff and twitch around happily yet making sure to not knock the crown off.

His joy was contagious, the sight absolutely too pure for anyone to not smile. Kristin began to softly laugh along. Phil was overjoyed to find that he was smiling, face warm and content.

Only when Techno reopened his eyes did Phil’s breath hitch.

Gone were the thin slit pupils and bloodshot eyes. Instead, there were the round, sparkling eyes so similar to Wilbur’s.

 _They were brown_.

And Phil felt a tear slip past as he uttered under his breath, “His eyes are brown.” Kristin eyed him, but made no effort to stop Phil as he moved to unwrap the cloth. The cloth that bound Techno’s hands were removed, revealing clawless hands and stubby fingers. When the gag was removed, the small sharp teeth and fangs were still there, but they were shorter and more like stubs than daggers.

When Technoblade looked up at Phil with a warm, innocent smile, Phil broke. He gently hugged Techno who only seemed to be concerned about the crown. Tears fell down his cheeks. Even as he shook, he made sure not to displace the crown on his baby’s head.

_His eyes_ were _brown_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya yall, another chapter! Sorry it took so long, life is busy and this is one fat chapter with a whopping 5k. I don't know whether to apologize for the long update or the long chapter you have to read so why not both? As I mentioned before, this DOES have planned lore and ending. The worldbuilding is kinda jank and non-existent but it's a crackfic so it doesn't need or deserve one. This chapter is a bit angstier and longer (coincidence? I think not) but this is still mainly a crack and fluff fic so don't worry. I'll continue to update more chapters in the future! Please feel free to comment or scream at me! Also, this chapter might be a bit confusing because I speedran this like crazy and it's all just instant brain rot so feel free to ask for questions or clarifications.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil and Kristin try to research and find answers behind the twins and the fridge.
> 
> Keyword "try".

The very next day, Phil left Kristin to deal with the children before taking off into the skies. His wings had been screaming for the past few days, forced to stay closed and cramped under baby carriers and away from grabby baby hands. But now? Phil was free.

His _wings_ were free. Phil could finally breathe.

So he soared through the skies and above the clouds, hovering for a few seconds before beginning to swoop across the lands. Calling rockets from his inventory into his hands, he blasted himself forward in a glory of sparks and he hurtled towards the city in a blur. His hand casually held onto his hat as he felt the wind whip across his face.

_He missed this._

Eventually, he arrived at the city in mere minutes, incomparably faster than when he took the bus. While he would have loved to fly for just a bit longer, but he had a single goal in mind.

When he got home, he arrived with windswept hair, a much lighter wallet, and endless books that took up his entire inventory.

 _It was time to research_.

He and Kristin sat down, resigning themselves to a day, maybe even a week of just reading and research. 

Never again would they be unprepared.

While technology and the internet existed in this world, true information was written in books. Only books could store and harness magic and power in ways many other objects could not. Journals that could never change once signed, or tomes that could hold enchantments, books were a mystery that held so much significance and worth in this world.

If there was any knowledge worth learning, it would be in a book.

It was for that very reason that Phil had his own library at his place, filled with books of information and enchantments. He even had his own journals of his learnings and hardcore challenge, knowing one day that it would become priceless knowledge.

The library was admittedly untouched for a while, a bit too dusty for his own liking. Even before the twins came up and took up his time, Phil had barely touched the library since he believed he had sufficient knowledge on what he needed the most.

But one can certainly never have enough information, especially when you’re an owner of a magical Samsung Smart Refrigerator and two twin babies, one of them being a piglin hybrid with a penchant for blood.

… When did Phil’s life start going so wrong?

So Phil had grabbed books for research from the city, getting books and information his own library did not have. Ranging from parenting books to magical tomes about artifacts to damn fridge manuals, Phil took anything that related to his situation.

He dumped the books into piles in the library, not bothering to organize the wide variety of books. Phil had spent as much time as he could earlier cleaning the library. There was no more dust and the couches and pillows gave the room a cozy feeling. If it wasn’t so warm, he would’ve lit the fireplace to make everything complete. If he had to submit him and Kristin to hours of reading, he might as well make it comfortable. They needed to find as many clues or information they could.

Unfortunately for Phil, most of the book’s contents were common information that he already knew. Most books in the Overworld about piglins focused more on trades and bastions and less on their behavior or culture. If he wanted any chance of delving deeper into actually useful information, he most likely would have to get books from Nether cities.

_I needed to go there anyway to start searching for Wilbur’s and Techno’s origins…_

Phil slammed the useless trading guide in his hands shut before tossing it a pile and grabbing another book. Kristin spared the time to raise her eyebrow at him before continuing to read. He shouldn’t have grabbed so many books, but Phil just grabbed anything that could relate to either Technoblade, Wilbur, or the fridge. Maybe he should have been a bit more specific.

He picked a random book on the pile and eyed the title. “ _Basic Guide on Pigs_ ”.

Well, maybe all of the books weren’t so useless. Even if Technoblade was a piglin hybrid, some part of him was still a pig, right? As Phil continued to read through numerous books about pigs, he was both pleased and annoyed to find out that it contained much more useful information than the piglin ones. They certainly did seem to be accurate.

‘ _Pigs normally burrow or dig into the ground to look for food. It is also an act that brings comfort to pigs and can help calm them down_.’

Before the festival or meeting with Kristin, Phil had once let the babies loose outside. In hindsight, letting twin babies run wild when he struggled to even contain them in a simple room was not exactly the smartest move, but you couldn’t exactly blame him.

He had been cramped inside with these crying cretins for days on end and Phil would have lost it if he didn’t go outside right there and then. The breeze flowing between his wings and the sun filtering onto his face almost made all of his suffering go away. Besides, babies needed sunlight too, right? Vitamin D and all that?

Wilbur for once was calm and sluggish underneath the warm sun. After Phil had laid out a blanket on the ground, he had set the two children down. The moment Wilbur touched the ground, he laid down on his back and slept as if there was no tomorrow, blissfully unaware of the world around him. Phil had considered that a small blessing.

Technoblade on the other hand was alert and more cautious, patting the uneven ground and forms of grass underneath the blanket. After each lump he felt, the baby would babble towards Phil in what seemed to be an affronted tone before patting for more lumps. He laughed at the child’s weird antics. It was almost as if he never touched grass before.

 _Wait_ …

Phil peered down on Techno who increasingly became more and more confused, ears scrunching up as he kept feeling the grass almost poking through the blanket. Maybe it _was_ the first time Technoblade would touch grass. He came from the fridge after all. If he wasn’t suddenly created into existence, he was most likely from the Nether where there certainly was a lack of green grass. Even the “grass” in the Crimson or Warped Forestv biomes felt different from the grass in the Overworld, more… otherworldly and fake.

With this thought in mind, he picked up Techno from the armpits and lifted the piglin hybrid up into the air. He slightly swayed him back and forth, watching little baby legs dangle back and forth. Technoblade squealed and grunted in, what Phil hoped to be, delight. It could’ve been fear but who knows?

Then, with much anticipation, Phil gently lowered Techno closer and closer to the grassy ground. There was no blanket this time. The baby went closer and closer to the ground until Techno’s feet finally pricked the very edges of the green grass blades.

With a loud squeal, Technoblade lifted his legs, pulling his knees close to his chest. The absolute panic made Phil wheeze out loud, laughing while trying not to drop the baby. When he began to lower Techno again, the baby let out a series of grunts while going out into a complete split just to avoid the ground below. This just made Phil laugh even harder, reduced to nonsensical cackling.

He stopped laughing when Technblade’s small hands grabbed onto Phil’s hands in a death-like grip, claws that came out of nowhere digging into his skin. With a yelp, Phil let go of his hands by accident before realizing what he did. However, instead of dropping a baby, Technoblade had managed to hold onto the very edges of Phil’s palms with simple pure desperation and the inhuman strength of babies.

Finally, Phil lost it. He laughed all of the air out of his lungs. All of the shaking and tremors from his laughter shook around Techno’s grip until it finally slipped loose.

Technoblade plummeted the remaining distance to the ground, a mere pinky’s width fall, and landed butt first onto the grass below.

The piglin hybrid was _horrified_ , frozen stiff and hands plastered to his chest. Even his ears refused to move as Techno’s eyes remained wide open. This did nothing to stop Phil’s laughter, serving to only fuel it even more.

Eventually, Technoblade began to relax and hesitantly hovered his palms about the blades of grass. Each attempt to touch it led to him flinching, but the baby was soon patting the ground like he was doing earlier on the blanket. His little toes clenched and unclenched as he tried to grab the grass with his own feet. The baby was _enthralled_.

Maybe a bit too enthralled. As if he was never scared in the first place, the baby brandished his claws and began to furiously dig into the ground, dirt flying everywhere. Phil stopped laughing very quickly.

“Hey- wait stop it! Techno bad, stop!” Phil shouted as he tried to grab Techno only to be met with a faceful of dirt. Only when he lifted Techno up into the air did he notice the destruction caused by the baby alone. A full chunk of the ground was gone and replaced with a messy hole bigger than the baby himself. Clumps of dirt and grass surrounded the area, covering everything but the blanket area where Wilbur continued to nap peacefully. 

Inspecting Techno, the baby had dirt clinging onto every possible surface of his clothes and skin. He expected endless dirt to be stuck underneath his claws, only to find regular nails that were of course stained with dirt.

Huh.

Wait, not huh. _What the fuck Technoblade?!_

Phil mentally screamed inside his head before dragging Techno and the abruptly awakened Wilbur back into the house for a shower. In the future, each attempt to bring the boys outside led to the piglin hybrid basically jumping out of his arms to dig around the dirt.

If Technoblade was going to dig around the dirt so much he might as well do some farming and plant something. Maybe potatoes.

Speaking of potatoes. Phil flipped away from the digging portion and went to the diet of pigs. While carrots were the most commonly used food for pigs, they could essentially eat scraps and other vegetables. However, other than carrots, pigs had two main foods.

Beetroots and potatoes.

“Hey Kristin, what do you think of potato soup for dinner?”  
  
“Eh. I prefer mashed potatoes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Another chapter for y'all! It's a bit on the shorter side and filled with more fluff and crack but man I enjoyed writing this. The next chapter is almost done so expect that soon as well! I'm very close to a point where I'm planning on doing a time skip to when they are slightly older and no longer babies so look forward to that. Also, I have some unfinished sketches about this cursed fridge fic and I wonder if I should post it on my Tumblr and insta. Maybe after I color it a bit. What do y'all think? Hope you enjoyed the fic like always!
> 
> Also, just found out that people in different servers talk about my fic and debate on whether they hate or love it. That's ALL I ever wanted in life. To those who hate it: smart people. You'll especially hate the ending I have planned. To those who love it: Why and I LOVE YOU. Thank you, you have my affections, and I would kill people for you. Just hope it's not one of the people I'm writing!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kristin finally leaves and Phil promptly breaks down and suffers.

Good news. Technoblade _loved_ the mashed potatoes.

Taking advice from the books about pigs, Phil included potatoes for dinner; mashed potatoes per Kristin’s request. He wasn’t expecting much of an outcome since pigs were not the exact equivalent to piglins, and Techno himself wasn’t even fully a piglin but a hybrid. However, it would’ve been nice if the baby liked the vegetable for future knowledge.

Like was an  _ understatement _ . 

Even before he had peeled the potatoes, Techno was already making a fuss, even if he was a room away from the kitchen. When Phil served the food and placed the mashed potatoes in a plastic bowl in front of the baby, the piglin hybrid had physically grabbed the bowl and shoved his entire face in as he tried to devour the contents of the bowl. Kristin didn’t even have a chance to pick up the plastic spoon to spoon-feed Techno before most of the potatoes were already gone.

Technoblade finished his bowl much faster than humanly possible,  _ but then again, Techno wasn’t human _ . Phil gave him seconds, thirds, then fourths and fifths. He even had to relinquish his own mashed potatoes to Techno so Kristin could eat hers. Was it even healthy for a baby to eat so much at once? Probably not, but he  _ swore _ that Techno might actually have killed him if he stopped giving him mashed potatoes.

Wilbur on the other hand was a  _ saint _ for once, which made Phil extremely suspicious. While he had none of the potato mania, he still enjoyed and quickly finished his food with the help of Kristin feeding him. Small mercies.

Overall, the potatoes were a success.

Soon enough, the family of four finished their meal. Phil finished cleaning the table as Kristin began to clean and put the babies away. He was lost in thought as he put away the dishes, thinking about going to the library or maybe getting more books. He had some theories about the fridge especially that he wanted to try out.

There was the sound of shuffling behind him, and Phil slightly turned his head. “Hey Kristin I was just thinking about-” He paused. Behind him, Kristin was grabbing her bag and rummaging through it. She was already fully dressed and prepared, almost as if she was about to go outside. “Kristin?”

“Oh Phil I know this is sudden but I think I should be going now. It’s a bit rude to leave right this second but I’m planning on heading out today and taking the bus back to my apartment in the city.” She looked at Phil apologetically, almost as if she was regretting her decision, but she also looked quite antsy.

It made sense. He really met Kristin by chance on that bus ride to the city and she had been his literal savior sticking by his side and helping with the Wilbur and Technoblade. She even stayed at his place for  _ days _ at this point.  _ Oh gods was he holding her captive _ -

“O-oh that’s fine Kristin, of course you’re free to go home. I really cannot thank you  _ enough _ for- for everything. You’ve been a blessing for helping me out with all this mess.” He stumbled around with his words in panic and slight sorrow. He truly was sad to see her leave, but he couldn’t hold her back when she made the sacrifice of having an impromptu stay at his house in the middle of nowhere. “But are you really leaving right now?”

He worriedly walked closer to her when her eyes kept darting between the door and the stairway that led to the nursery room. Finally, she sighed and looked at him with bright, sparkling determination in her eyes before marching up to him. Grabbing his collar, she pulled his face close to hers. Phil flushed red as he was put a breath's distance from her, close enough to easily count each eyelash and see the colors in her eyes. Her face shifted towards his right as her lips brushed his ear.

“Phil, I’m on my fucking period.”

Phil froze, but Kristin continued. “I’m just really worried about Techno and how he reacts to blood. I don’t know if this count but him being around me might put him into a frenzy so it’s best if I leave now.” Her voice was concerned as she explained her thoughts. Meanwhile, Phil remained still beside her as his brain fried.

Eventually, Kristin pulled away and stared at Phil who was unresponsive. She waved her hands in front of Phil and snapped his fingers, dragging him back to reality. “Oh yeah I was- I was just thinking um,” Phil floundered about as he looked away while gently leading her to the door. “Yeah, that makes sense. Besides, I feel really guilty for forcing you to stay over and help me babysit.”

Kristin laughed and waved away and dismissed his words. “Phil it’s really fine I stayed here voluntarily and you know that. If I really wanted to leave you would have had no chance of keeping me here.”  _ True _ . “And besides, I’ll come by to stay over again, if not for you then for the twins. The gods know you can’t do things for shit and I want the best for them.”

He laughed at her words. The two were by the doorway now with Kristin about to leave when Phil quickly held her back. “Of course of course. Wait here for once sec.” He turned away from the door and quickly went up the stairway and into a room. In just a few moments, he went back down, this time carrying a basket that he handed her.

It was filled with chocolates, sweets, a heating pad, and some pain relievers. “I know you probably have these at your place already but it’s just a little gift. You deserve this and more. I mean it,” Phil said with sincerity as she took it and looked at the contents. She smiled and with a slight move of her hands, the basket was gone and put away into her inventory. 

“Really, thank you Phil. I’ll enjoy it, especially the chocolates,” she said. “No, but seriously, you better treat Wilbur and Technoblade right, Phil. You might _ think _ they’re not your sons, but they  _ are _ your children one way or another and you can’t run from that. Do anything bad and I'm coming back with my nerf gun collection.”   
  
While Phil truly believed her threat, he was slightly hung up on her previous statement. She was constantly adamant in pushing the idea that he and the babies were truly a family when they weren’t. He was going to research the fridge and  _ prove  _ it. But he dared not to mention that in front of Kristin right when she was about to leave. It simply wasn’t the right time when saying goodbye. Also, he didn’t want Kristin to change her mind and bring her  _ entire  _ nerf gun collection to assault his house.

“...Fine. Okay, Kristin. Once again, thank you and have a good trip.” Phil relented before smiling. He opened his arms wide and as expected, he received a tight hug from the smaller woman. What he didn’t expect was the light kiss on his cheek when she pulled away. While he stood in shock, she just smiled and waved her hands before she left the room and shut the door in his face. In his own goddam house too.

Phil really didn’t know how to react. She was long gone, but his face exploded into a burst of red, warmth creeping in his ears and down his neck. He would’ve stood there dumbfounded even longer if he didn’t hear a feral grunt from upstairs. 

Seems as if Technobalde did sense the blood and went into another craze. This time without Kristin.  _ Great _ . 

With a sigh, he went and grabbed the pile of golden nuggets he kept stored in his inventory as well as some clean clothes. Phil never really thought he’d become so used to binding up a baby. 

Gods, what even was his  _ life _ ?

One bloodlust frenzy later, Technoblade was taking a nap, unconsciously nibbling on a golden nugget and Wilbur sat wide awake in amusement in another crib. Phil frowned and poked at the fresh bandages that wrapped around his arms. He was getting used to the pain, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

Either way, with both babies somewhat occupied or away from any danger, Phil was free to leave the room and head towards his destination. The Samsung Smart Refrigerator.

The incredibly modern and magical fridge still remained as a mystery and pain in the ass. After spitting out the two babies, the fridge was mostly dormant, but it still activated once in a blue moon, using magic only once during Kristin’s entire stay. Too bad it was during the middle of the night while she was getting a midnight snack and screaming in surprise when the fridge doors burst open to reveal a large chocolate croissant with dark coffee. She didn’t mind the croissant but she really didn’t want coffee when she was planning on sleeping. However, she did end up needing it in the end when her scream woke up the twins and led to two crying tantrums. It was a rough night for everyone in the house that night.

The fridge summons what somebody “needs” in the vaguest and most indirect method possible. He didn’t even know how the fridge determined what someone needed. There was the silverfish that dealt with his pent up energy and the literal sleeping drug that made him pass out. 

But then there was Kristin. Kristin  _ wanted _ a snack but she didn’t  _ need _ coffee, not until the fridge scared her and woke up the babies. It wasn’t too far fetched to think the fridge purposely scared Kristin. Knowing how much of a little shit it could be and its sentient habits, it was very plausible that the fridge  _ made _ Kristin need something. Did it even work like that?

Honestly, the fridge was a confusing mess from start to finish. Phil had no luck translating the note with the same foreign language in enchantments. While the beginning and ends of the text were written in English, the rest was absolute gibberish and visuals he could not understand for his life.

Not to mention the heart attack he almost had when he was studying the note, only for Wilbur who was in his arms to suddenly grab the paper out of nowhere and  _ shove _ it into his mouth. Phil screamed “ _ Bad Wilbur! _ ” over and over as he tried to pry the baby’s mouth open, only for the child to have the audacity to swallow the paper whole. He would have been worried for the baby’s stomach if he hadn’t seen him consume mouthfuls of sand without batting an eye.

Luckily for Phil, the Samsung Smart Fridge had a digital version of the note on the touch screen, something Kristin found out when she decided to make a shopping list. It was the same word for word, each weird symbol still there but now on the screen. For once, the advanced fridge had some use. They couldn’t understand how the touch screen or the entire fridge worked without being plugged into any outlet, but that was just another unknown mystery to be shoved into the pile.

So yes, Phil had spent days and  _ weeks _ trying to find out anything about the fridge, only to get  _ nothing _ . Research with books and materials from the overworld yielded no results. The only thing left he could do was to visit the Nether, which he had to do at some point, or figure things out through experiments.

One big question, probably the most important one to Phil right now, was whether the things the fridge summoned already existed beforehand and was merely teleported here, or whether they were created out of mid-air with magic. It was a very important distinction, especially when regarding Technoblade and Wilbur.

The only best way to test this out is if Phil needed a unique, one-of-a-kind object that he knew the location of, and had the fridge summon it. If it merely teleported items, then the object would be gone from its original location and be in the fridge. If it created new items, then there would be two unique objects now existing in the world.

But again, the fridge was  _ unpredictable _ and a prick, especially to Philza. It was almost as if its life purpose was to make him suffer and do the opposite of what he wanted. So any attempts at testing or doing experiments led to either no results or just pain.

That day, after all attempts at coaxing the fridge to cooperate to no avail, (Phil would never find that ring again, would he-) he just about gave up. Banging his head against the metal fridge doors, he sighed in agony. “Please. I NEED to know your secrets. Just tell me you fucking piece of-”

The sound of enchantment tables filled the room and Phil gasped in surprise as purple particles circled around it. Immediately, he opened the fridge and looked inside, desperate to find answers.

_ Nothing _ . The fridge was empty.

“Oh you FUCKER-” Phil slammed the door shut as he yelled in frustration. He was  _ done  _ with the fridge.

But the fridge wasn’t done with him. As if sensing his frustration at its trolling attempt, the fridge decided to emit the noise once more and slightly shook. Phil was  _ so _ tempted to just walk away right there and then. He would’ve smashed the fridge into pieces if he didn’t know that it was invulnerable and would simply come back. He swore if he opened the fridge again and it was  _ empty _ -

Phil opened the door.

A baby zombie looked up, made eye contact with Phil, then lunged with the viciousness of a rotting gremlin and attacked. The man let out an endless string of vulgar curses as he took a sword from his inventory and sliced the baby zombie in half.

He was  _ done _ with the fridge. Letting the body of the baby zombie poof into smoke, Phil angrily left the kitchen and the Samsung Smart Refrigerator to take an angry nap and scream into his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! Y'all I'm CACKLING at all the foreshadowing I crammed into here and y'all wouldn't even notice HALF of them. I love being a writer sometimes. This is probably the last chapter with Wilbur and Techoblade as babies! Maybe one more, but after that, there will be time skips as they age up. Also, we're getting quite close to the actual plot!!! So look forward to that. I'm busy and quite distracted between all of my fics and drawings but I'll always try to make time for this fic. Hope y'all enjoyed it!
> 
> ALSO I JUST REALIZED I MISSPELLED KRISTIN'S NAME AS KRISTEN THIS ENTIRE TIME AND CHANGED ALL OF IT I AM SO EMBARRASSED AHHH-

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya. I wrote this in a blur on a day where I couldn't do anything productive so I wrote this cursed creation. You're welcome. I actually wrote a lot of chapters and went far with this idea so look forward to that I guess. It's actually not as scuffed as it seems I promise, it's just very clear that I wrote this while sleep-deprived.
> 
> This was written by NKhaotic! Check out my Tumblr and scream at me @NKhaotic.


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